My slow descend into total submission started around the time I was born and figured out which side of the world was up and which was down.
I'll spare you, dear reader, the details of my life up to now, but suffice it to say that I have managed to find in my Second Life what my first life hasn't managed to give me.
Note:
The following situation, therefore, happened in Second Life, rather than in reality.
A night of interesting situations and my usual chaos led me to requiring my dear friend to give back the keys she held for me, allowing me to shake free the bonds that held me either willingly or because of an error of judgement.
After handling the few tidbits I wanted to fix up, and promptly forgetting the larger list of things I meant to do once these were taken care of, I returned to Sarah's Sanctuary in Dolly Dreams, where I tend to peruse the statues, dolls and other furniture who tend to gather and converse in whichever way possible to them.
Surprisingly, the place was void of life. Far off in the distance I could barely hear the sounds of Greedy being played in Buttons' house of depravity, yet my attention was drawn to the only other creature in the same area as myself.
Those who know me know that one can get my attention in a small variety of ways... among which are found the mention of latex, especially when covering a female form, zentai, and bondage. In front of my eyes a woman stood, her face blank as mine was so much time ago, her mouth open in a sultry invitation for any to dip in a finger, a tongue, a tentacle.. or other limb I don't have available.
Farther down, her large mounds were shining dimly in what little light came from the stars above, and her bright pink nipples stood at attention near the center of these perfect orbs. She had no arms, instead having odd stumps which looked as if someone had taken a pincer and simply cut off a bit of latex, thinking nothing of the poor doll needing to go through life without these extremeties.
My eyes were drawn lower, to a sharply contrasting fuckdoll crotch, her larger stature allowing me to see into that ribbed tunnel that delved deep inside of her. She stood on a pair of latex ballet boots, her balance shifting slightly from one foot to the next as we stood there staring at one another.
My first thought was to hug this doll -a flaw in my communications subroutine, I'm sure-, and I walked up to her to introduce myself. Her blank face turned to me, and I could almost sense her curiosity at someone almost two feet smaller than her approaching her to promptly close their arms around their latex form.
She uttered a beep, and I peered up with mild confusion. On closer inspection her forehead revealed a small light, seemingly embedded in the otherwise perfectly round shape of her hood. She beeped again, and the light lit up in green.
Before I could utter my question, a box set in the skin above her right breast stated in a lifeless mechanic voice that she was unable to speak and the light on her forehead was her only means of communication.
Remembering the days in preschool when the act of crossing the road were discussed, I immediately assumed green was yes, and a possible red might be no. Either that, or she would start talking in morse code and the situation would have become even more confusing. (I know little to no morse code. Save for the S.O.S. and S.M.S. codes.)
I queried; "You are unable to talk?" but the box emitted that metallic voice again and I mentally cringed. "I'm guessing you can't turn that thing off?" I wondered, and my suspicions were found correct when the light on her forehead beeped a red color.
Still hugging my arms around her, my questions started pouring out, ranging from whether she liked to be hugged (yes), was able to talk in IM (no), to more dangerous questions like "Can you tell me where I could buy those things you're wearing?"
At the latter question, she managed to break her lifeless exterior by not only beeping YES, but also moving in a slightly frantic manner until I got a look at an implant embedded in the back of her head. A small display read 5h33m, and I felt my heart sink. "You're timelocked in this?" I wondered, and the answer was a definite YES. Clearly, if I were to have any hope of proper communication with this woman, it would have to be after this timer ran down.
Not letting my minimal amount of technical know-how phase me, I plucked a screwdriver from my pocket and tried to offset the timer, but all I managed to do was ADD time to it! Not wanting to be the cause of permanently sealing a girl into such a lovely prison she was found in (not until after I got a chance to learn her name and get her to squirm enough that she would believe the choice to be her own (in the absence of another choice)), I stopped tinkering and pulled back slightly.
With a green beep, the girl promptly disappeared, leaving me staring at the air in front of me as if I had been dreaming it all! My surprised mind hardly noticed my GDO beeping as a warning that a wormhole was opening nearby, until it was too late and the wormhole sucked me through its vortex to throw me at the floor of an alien room.
The woman stood there, her blank face turned towards me, and moved off once she noticed I was successfully picking myself up from the ground. She walked around a center console that more looked like four open-shelf bookcases built around a holographic tree, in the center of the room, and then returned to me to beep YES. I blinked at her, and looked around with no attempt to hide my amazement.
"Did you.. no. Have you.. hm.. Is this your home?" I asked, and the woman seemed to need a moment before she bleeped YES. "It's lovely.." I breathed, realizing my hand had been rising up towards the holographic tree and stopping myself before it touched anything that might cause certain doom. Another YES was the response.
Noticing I was looking at my surroundings as if I was a child entering Willy Wonka's factory, the woman walked over towards a round pad on the floor and gave it a light tap with her boot. An elliptical sphere of light erupted above it and the woman turned to me. "YES." she bleeped, and I shrugged and stepped into the light. It wasn't the first teleporter I had seen.
The floor I arrived at held a curious contraption that looked most like a conveyor belt in a factory, with obvious signs of where it would start and end. Large red crosses of tape were wound around most of it, however, reading "OUT OF ORDER" or "DANGER: DO NOT USE" on them. I raised an eyebrow as the woman materialized behind me. "Having some problems?" I wondered, and she bleeped YES. "Need a mechanic? I don't know much about the technology you used, but I did frequent repairs on my ship while I was out in space.." YES YES was the response, and I smiled up. "You'll just have to let me know what I would need to do." I offered, and watched the woman poke the teleport pad she had arrived at again.
Once more I stepped in the sphere, to arrive on a different platform. The center of all these seemed to link together with a huge beam of light, extending to, what I later found out was a correct guess, the holographic tree on the uppermost floor. This floor, however, contained little more than a single terminal with a red and a green button on it. Green and red if you're reading from left to right, as most of you do. The woman moved in front of it and bleeped green, clearly activating the console as the green button lit up and a holographic skull appeared, a biomechanical implant deeply embedded within its brain.
Now I'm no biologist, but the placement of this implant seemed to be designed to make it permanent. In no way, with my limited knowledge of how flesh moves when you tear a foreign object from it, could I imagine the subject would survive the extraction. But with technology capable of implanting such, I imagined they had thought of the extraction process as well. Right?
The woman had walked on towards the next teleport pad and I shrugged and followed her, talking more to myself than to her. Bleeps of YES were commonplace, with the occasional NO thrown in for good measure when I seemed to go off on a tangent, and we arrived in the first room again. With my initial amazement about the complex dwindling, I noticed a soft dripping sound and turned my eyes to face the woman.
From her crotch, a lightly transparant liquid was oozing down her legs, and dripping on the floor. Looking closer, I saw the grates (with openings small enough to allow the woman to walk on her ballet boots without getting stuck) seemed to glisten with her moist, and I walked up to her to pull her into a hug. "You must be very aroused, being stuck like that.. knowing you look like a fucktoy.. only able to be used whether you want to or not, as you can't protest.." YES YES YES YES YES was the response, and I gave her a tight squeeze. "It must've been a while someone has given you this much attention, no? You must be craving for some kind of release?" YES YES YES.
I smirked lightly and proceeded to force the woman on the ground, my small stature not only hiding most of my strength but also aided by whatever programming that implant had inserted into the woman's brain; she went down almost before I could reach for her, as if she could read my mind. I spent some time gently tracing my hands over her body, lightly caressing her exposed genitalia and looking at how her body twitched and squirmed, aided by the beeps of YES whenever I touched her where she most enjoyed it. But she did not come.
It's true, she left quite a wet spot to clean, but it was nothing compared to a good orgasm.
I helped her up, with one eyebrow rising up in confusion as she felt almost like a balloon as I pulled her from the ground.. hardly any gravitational pull at all.. I mentioned I noticed she hadn't orgasmed yet, and she bleeped YES. I realized I was using the wrong words, and rephrased my question; "Did you have an orgasm just now?" and the harsh red NO bleeped as a response.
I sighed and looked around me, but found no location where I could easily help the poor woman with her problem, noticing that she was rubbing her thighs together when she found I wasn't looking at them but tried to keep up appearances whenever I did. "This is your house." YES "You will take me to a place where I can help you with this properly." YES and she walked off to the teleporter again.
This time, I recognized the area we arrived in. I will keep it from you, dear reader, but it is to protect something I found within..
While the floor was simple rubber mats laid out over metal grates to prevent people from slipping, it was a heavenly bed as I shared my love with the doll, receiving many a YES until she finally erupted in the code sequence I had told her to use when she had an orgasm, just to allow me to be sure.
If the splash of cum in my face wasn't enough, she did utter the code sequence.. and later did so again.. and I rolled over and cuddled up to her side, tracing my wet fingers over her latex form.
We talked.. Well, I did, for the next hour... just laying there.. with her beeping and my words.. and it was like a storybook ending. She bleeped NO a couple of times in a row, and I wondered what was wrong, but the slow heaving of her chest and my own fatigue already gave it away. I wondered if she was tired, and she bleeped YES. I gave her a warm kiss on her rubber mouth and picked myself up from the ground, looking for where my clothes had gone off to.
Pulling my pants back up over my hips, I turned to the doll to ask if I should help her up, but her head had lolled to the side and the light on her forehead was showing little green sparks as if she had already drifted to REM sleep. I looked for the nearest teleporter, used my trusty screwdriver to program it with my home location and let her rest.
I.. I think I'll return to her.. and fix that machine of hers. The feeling of her latex form, her large chest heaving as I lay on top of her staring at her blank face.. the smart responses she gave to my ambiguous questions.. and the fact she managed to make more sense to me than half the people I've met over the years.. They warrant a return.
I have the nagging feeling I'm going to end up as something like her.
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