Dolly

 

Ellie's transformation was as thorough as it was horrific. The nano machines had worked their insidious magic on every part of her body, leaving no area untouched. Her once soft, human skin was now a glossy, pink plastic, each curve and contour of her body exaggerated to fit a perverse, idealized vision of femininity. Her breasts, now perfectly round and firm, had been altered in a particularly cruel fashion. Her nipples, once delicate and sensitive, had been transformed into neon pink hard candy-like protrusions, impossibly bright and enticing.

These new nipples were not just for show. The nano machines had heightened their sensitivity to a degree that bordered on torturous. Ellie's masters, upon discovering this, delighted in exploiting her vulnerability. The merest brush of a fingertip or the lightest suckle on these hyper-erogenous zones sent electric waves of pleasure through her body, forcing her into explosive, uncontrollable orgasms. The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that it obliterated any semblance of coherent thought, leaving her a quivering, moaning mess.

As Ellie knelt on the floor, her body a perfect pink caricature of a woman, her master approached her. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the hard, candy-like surface of her nipples. Ellie's body responded instantly, arching towards his touch, her synthetic flesh yearning for the stimulation it was programmed to crave. Her eyes, wide and doll-like, reflected a mix of terror and anticipation. She knew what was coming, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but react.

When he finally took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, Ellie's world exploded into a kaleidoscope of sensation. The pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent that swept away her thoughts and left only raw, primal need. Her body convulsed, muscles tensing and relaxing in rapid succession as the first orgasm hit her. It was followed almost immediately by another, and then another, each one more intense than the last. Ellie's cries of ecstasy filled the room, a stark contrast to the emptiness she felt inside.

Her master’s hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her plasticine form. He alternated between her nipples, sucking and nibbling, sending wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure through her. Ellie's body responded eagerly, hips thrusting and back arching, every movement driven by the insatiable need that the nano machines had instilled in her. She was nothing more than a toy, her purpose reduced to providing pleasure for others.

As the pleasure reached its peak, Ellie's mind began to fragment. Each orgasm was a little death, a surrender of self that left her more hollow and broken than before. She could feel the heat between her thighs intensify, the relentless throb of need that could only be satisfied by another’s touch. Her master’s hands moved lower, fingers grazing her synthetic sex, and Ellie knew what was coming next.

When he finally entered her, the numbness was replaced by an overwhelming rush of sensation. The nano machines had made sure that her synthetic sex was as responsive as her nipples, designed to provide maximum pleasure to her masters. Ellie's body convulsed with each thrust, the pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. Her cries of ecstasy grew louder, a testament to her complete and utter subjugation.

Ellie's mind, trapped within this living doll’s body, could only watch helplessly as she was used and discarded. The nano machines had stripped her of her humanity, reducing her to a plaything for others to enjoy. Her nipples, her sex, every part of her body was a tool for pleasure, programmed to respond eagerly to the slightest touch. And as the final orgasm wracked her body, leaving her a trembling, moaning mess on the floor, Ellie knew that there was no escape from this nightmare. She was a living doll, a perfect pink puppet, forever bound to the whims of those who controlled her.

Kat's Candy

It was inevitable once she was in the cage. Deny them sleep and food, alternate between extreme heat and extreme cold, and blare deafening music at all times for a few days, and they'll be eating out of your hand in no time. And then it was just a matter of getting her to eat the candy. The spell did the rest.

~~~

Kat’s world had shrunk to the size of the dingy basement she was trapped in. Her life before the abduction seemed like a distant dream, replaced by the harsh reality of her captivity. The cage she was kept in was small and uncomfortable, barely allowing her to stretch out. Her captor, a man whose face she had come to dread, kept offering her a shimmering pink candy, a temptation she resisted for as long as she could. But eventually, hunger and fatigue wore her down, and she accepted the candy, hoping for some small comfort.

The moment she swallowed the candy, a sickening heat bloomed between her thighs, spreading through her body. She felt an uncomfortable, relentless wetness soaking the bottom of her cage. Her breasts swelled, her nipples lengthening and stiffening, becoming hellishly sensitive. Her skin grew flawless, almost plastic-like, and her hair transformed into bright, garish colors, coiling into pigtails that she couldn’t remove no matter how hard she tried.

The changes to her body were horrifying, but the worst part was the ravenous need between her thighs. She tried everything to relieve the aching desire, but no matter what she did, it was impossible. Her efforts were futile, and her captor recorded every desperate attempt, adding to her humiliation. For a week, she was left to stew in her frustration, the need growing more unbearable by the day.

When her captor finally entered the basement, she was a quivering mess of desperation. He approached her cage, opening it just enough to reach inside. His fingers found their way to her aching core, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she experienced sweet release. The orgasm rocked through her body, leaving her breathless and momentarily sated.

But then he told her that it would be the last orgasm she ever had if she didn’t do exactly as he said. The need was already returning, a gnawing, insistent ache that she couldn’t ignore. Desperation drove her to agree to his demands. She had no other choice. The hunger between her thighs was unbearable, and she couldn’t imagine living with it unfulfilled.

He handed her a uniform, and she looked at it with a mixture of horror and resignation. It was humiliating—designed to degrade and objectify her further. The tight, skimpy outfit clung to her newly transformed body, emphasizing every curve and making her look even more like a living doll. Her captor watched with a satisfied smile as she dressed, knowing he had broken her will.

Kat worked for him now. She performed every task he assigned, each one more degrading than the last. She cooked, cleaned, and served him, all while wearing the humiliating uniform. And when he desired, he used her, exploiting the changes the candy had wrought on her body. Her nipples, so sensitive and permanently stiff, became his favorite playthings, bringing her to the edge of orgasm with the slightest touch.

But he never let her find release again. He would bring her close, making her writhe and beg, but always stopping short of allowing her satisfaction. The need between her thighs remained a constant torment, a reminder of her captivity and her helplessness.

Every day was a struggle to maintain her sanity. The basement became her world, and her captor its cruel master. She lived for those rare moments when he allowed her a taste of pleasure, even if it was fleeting and incomplete. Her life was a twisted nightmare, each day blending into the next, filled with humiliation, need, and the ever-present, impossible desire for relief. Her transformed nipples now resembled the candy that had transformed her, and she tempted anyone she could into having a taste.

 

Natalie's Promotion

Natalie, a diligent secretary at a prestigious law firm, stumbled upon a mysterious pair of thigh-high boots tucked away in the corner of the storage room. Intrigued by their vintage allure, she slipped them on, unaware of their sinister nature.

As soon as the boots encased her legs, Natalie felt an ominous chill run down her spine. The leather seemed to tighten around her calves, locking her in place. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't remove them.

To her horror, the boots began to exert a strange influence over her behavior. They compelled her to perform embarrassing tasks, like fetching coffee for her colleagues with a flirtatious sway of her hips. Each humiliation was more degrading than the last, and Natalie's professional reputation suffered with each forced action.

As Natalie struggled to cope with the cursed boots' influence, she found herself facing an increasingly humiliating ordeal. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her legs together while sitting at her desk. The boots seemed to exert a perverse force, causing her thighs to part lewdly of their own accord.

Her colleagues began to notice her peculiar behavior, exchanging awkward glances and whispers behind her back. The men were emboldened and their comments became more crude. Natalie's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she struggled to maintain a semblance of professionalism, but during important meetings, her legs would splay open, drawing unwanted attention from her coworkers. They took full advantage, and eventually she earned herself a promotion as the CEO's personal toilet.