© Copyright 2014 - Natalia - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; F/f; MF/f; sexshop; toys; strip; voy; mast; orgasm; blackout; mc; transform; lovedoll; oral; climax; stuck; objectified; cons/reluct; X
Rebecca was horny. There was no talking around it, and, if someone had asked her, she would probably have admitted it, too. She had been squirming in her chair at the office all afternoon, despite the frantic pace at which things were going on around her. Ever since she had literally bumped into that guy while she was running some errands during her lunch break, she had felt it. He had a lot of the attributes that she really liked in a man, and feeling him so close against her, if only for seconds, had set her off.
So now on her commute home, she knew exactly what she would do once she got there. Her need had such an urgency, she was aware that she probably wouldn't even undress -- just lay down on her bed in her work clothes, reach into the drawer of her night stand for her trusty vibrator, plug it in and let it pleasure her again and again until she could take no more.
And so, when she got to her apartment, she didn't care about neatness or much of anything anymore. She was so worked up, so hungry that she slipped out of her coat and let it fall to the floor as she walked to her bed, almost as if in trance, reached into the top drawer, pulled out her powerful vibrator, plugged it in, lay down on the bed, worked down her panties and flicked the vibrator's switch and ...
She clicked the switch several times.
Rebecca moaned in frustration. "Not now!" she thought. "Oh please please not now!" Again and again she manipulated the switch. But the device remained dead.
She knew exactly what that meant -- she would have to buy a new vibrator. Now. Because Rebecca needed a high level of stimulation. Her fingers, a plain dildo or one of those normal battery driven vibrators could not satisfy her when she wanted, or in this case, 'needed' to masturbate. And whenever she was as horny as she was now, she needed her release soon. Otherwise she knew she would feel miserable for the week to come. And she really didn't want that, or, for that matter, could afford it. Not with work as crazy and hectic as it was now.
So she sighed, got up again, pulled up her panties, straightened her skirt, grabbed her purse from the night stand, picked up her coat and walked out of her apartment and to her car.
After a short drive, she got to the closest place that she thought might have what she needed. Granted, it was not exactly the best kind of neighborhood, but it was a lot closer than any of the other shops she knew could help her out. And right now, with the way she felt, time was the most important factor of all.
She walked into the store and was quite surprised at how clean and friendly it was, and as she was the only customer there at the time, she was immediately approached by a saleslady. Rebecca guessed her to be in her early 30s, about Rebecca's own age, and she smiled at her.
"Hello, my name is Carol. Can I help you with anything?"
The smile and the way she was approached immediately took away all apprehensions Rebecca had had when she first seen the place walking up to it. And being the only customer did its share, and so she felt very much at ease with this woman.
"As a matter of fact, yes. I need one of those powerful vibrators. Not one of those battery driven ones, but rather one that plugs right into a wall outlet." She blushed and broke eye contact with the saleswoman for a second. "I ... I need rather intense stimulation." Carol nodded and looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "Yes, we do have several models in stock but ..." her voice dropped almost to a whisper, "I want you to consider something else."
She motioned Rebecca to follow her towards the counter, rummaged through a drawer and produced a small box and opened it. Inside was what looked like one of those small, butterfly-shaped vibrators that could be strapped on, thus effectively be worn, even underneath clothing if necessary. Right next to it was a smallish box with a couple of buttons, probably a remote control. Rebecca shook her head.
"No, Carol, I'm sure this is not what I'm looking for." she said.
"Trust me," Carol whispered, "this little gizmo is capable of giving pleasure like no other device has ever before." She looked around nervously, making Rebecca wonder what she was up to. "Let me make you an offer. Business is slow right now, so I'll close the shop for a little while and let you try it here. If you don't like it, I'll gladly sell you something else, and I'll even give you 10% off. But I seriously doubt you will want that."
Rebecca stared at her in utter disbelief, and now it was Carol's turn to blush and look away. "I ... I just want to watch you use it." Carol stuttered.
That prompted Rebecca to smile and nod. The woman 'was' serious. And now even her motivation seemed understandable. In addition to that, the idea of doing this further excited her. She liked it. And so, as she nodded once again and Carol scurried off, she peeled the small device out of its shrink-wrap and, raising her skirt and lowering her panties, prepared to put it on.
Carol returned, and she grabbed the now unwrapped device and, with trembling fingers, placed the straps around Rebecca's hips, adjusting them to make sure that the little butterfly-shaped device rested closely against Rebecca's damp labia and clitoris. While she did so, Rebecca watched her, sighing softly as the cool plastic touched the most intimate places of her own body.
Getting up again, Carol took the small control box from the counter, looked at Rebecca with a smile and whispered "Ready?" Rebecca, her excitement now even stronger than before, nodded slowly and watched Carol press a button on the small remote control.
Instantly, Rebecca felt the device starting to pulse slowly, but with what seemed to be great force, against her sex. She gasped in surprise -- never had she felt such a powerful sensation from a device that small, especially not one that obviously was battery driven. It was almost as if it was penetrating her deeply, yet at the same time provided stimulation to her clitoris and, with the pulses running deeply into her, her sweet spot deep inside her, the one that she needed to feel stimulated in order to experience a satisfying orgasm.
She bit her lower lip to stifle a moan, feeling how the device picked up speed little by little, and at the same time increasing the intensity of its stimulation just a tiny little bit with each pulse it was giving, the pleasure it caused going right to the brain or so it seemed, tickling the pleasure center of her brain in just the right ways. Slowly the surroundings faded in Rebecca's mind, the pleasure so overwhelming it blocked out everything else, the device feeling as if the tongue of a phantom lover danced around her most sensitive spots while at the same time penetrating her deeply, almost as if it reached deep into her soul.
Rebecca's knees buckled, and if Carol hadn't caught her, she would have fallen as her head thrashed about, her moans eventually turning into unbridled cries of raw lust as her orgasm finally washed over her in a gigantic wave, taking her along on the most intense pleasure ride she had ever experienced in her whole life. And right as she peaked, her body and her mind simply could take no more and decided to shut down, and in the last throws of passion that rippled through her, her consciousness slowly faded and everything turned black.
When she came around again, Carol was kneeling beside her, giving her little slaps on the cheeks and smiling at her. When Carol realized that Rebecca was regaining consciousness, she stopped and gently assisted her in getting up again, providing support when needed. And while she did so, her smile never left her face, not even for a second. Carol knew she had made a sale and her happiness about it showed in that blinding smile of hers. Rebecca on the other hand was still panting, a little disoriented, yet fully aware of what had just happened. And without further ado, she stammered between gasps for air:
"I'll ... take it. How ... much ... do I ... owe you?"
"That'll be 289 dollars and 50 cents." Carol chirped cheerfully, still sporting her wide smile. "Will that be cash or credit card?"
Rebecca flinched at the really steep price, but right now, still basking in the afterglow of her most intense orgasm ever, she told herself that even for just this one orgasm the price would be well justified. And to think, once she had this little gizmo she could feel this way again and again ...
"Credit card," she panted and started rummaging through her purse. She put down her MasterFraud card onto the counter, and Carol picked it up and ran it through the machine, while Rebecca tried to get herself at least somewhat presentable again. For a brief moment she thought about removing the device, then decided against it and just pulled up her panties again. She would wear her new toy home, that's what she would do, she smiled to herself. And when Carol put down the credit card slip for her to sign, she rounded off the sum to an even 300 dollars and signed it, her hands still trembling slightly from the experiences only a short while ago.
She grabbed the little remote control, put it into her purse and thanked Carol once again as she accompanied her to the door. Before unlocking the door, Carol gave her a hug and wished her lots of fun with her newly acquired toy, winking at her as she did so. Rebecca smiled, and assured her that she was certainly planning on it.
It was an impatient drive home for Rebecca. She simply couldn't wait to get there so she could experience the feelings she had felt in sex shop again. And while her original longing had been satisfied by the little device that was now safely nestled up against her pussy inside her damp panties, she needed to feel this intense pleasure again. it was simply unbelievable, too good to be true. She had to know if she could feel it again. And so she switched lanes nervously, trying to cut every second she possibly could from the way back to her apartment.
As before, she just slipped out of her coat immediately after she closed her apartment door behind herself, letting it fall to the floor, and did the very same with her skirt and blouse, kicking off her shoes while walking towards her bed, arriving there just in her bra, panties and the thigh-high stay-ups she was wearing, carrying her purse, with the device still nestled within her panties.
She took the little remote control from her purse, laid herself down on her bed and pressed the button. And once again, she could feel the pulsing, the building tension and all those sensations she had felt when she tried the device earlier in the store, with the exception that this time, she didn't pass out, but felt the blinding explosion of sensations within her to the fullest, with thousands of aftershocks rippling through her body until she finally relaxed enough again to find some coherent thought. But even though she tried, she couldn't.
"Awesome," she whispered to nobody in particular.
And then she pressed the button again. And once again, the stimulation of the device took her to the heights of pleasure it had taken her to before. And once again, her voice hoarse already, Rebecca screamed out her passion as the wave of pleasure washed over her. Never had she known such pleasure. It was intoxicating. And so, after coming back down again from her third overwhelming orgasm in just a short while, she did the inevitable.
She pressed the button once again.
One more time the pleasure built, and this time it seemed to take her further, growing to an overwhelming level, and as she came this time, blackness washed over her with her release, knocking her out and leading her over into the land of sleep.
Rebecca stirred. Somewhere, far far away, she heard her alarm clock beeping, but she couldn't get herself to move. At least she managed to open her eyes, feeling slightly disoriented. Then, slowly, the events of last night came back to her. The pleasure. That unearthly, total pleasure. The device. Trying it at the store. Carol, the voyeuristic saleslady. Buying it for a ridiculously high price. Driving home. And making herself come. Several times. Yes. She remembered now.
Finally, she reached for the alarm clock to shut it off. She flinched. As she moved her arm, her shoulder and her elbow hurt. Much like they would after her running a fever for a couple of days. She cursed and tried to sit up, and as she did, she noticed how all of her joints hurt in much the same way. "Just great," she thought, "I must have caught the flu or something." So she decided to call in sick and stay home in bed for at least the day, taking some ibuprofen or something to soothe her inflamed joints and lower a possible fever.
She sighed. Rebecca hated being sick. Ever since she was a little girl, being sick was terrible for her. It was so boring, and watching television all day was 'not' for her. Then a smile flickered across her face as she realized she was still dressed in the underwear she had put on yesterday morning, with her new delightful sex toy still nestled inside her panties. She started giggling to herself, thinking, "This might end up being the most delightful flu I have ever had before." And with that thought, she pressed the button on the small remote.
By the time evening fell, Rebecca had made herself come eight more times, just barely resting up properly in-between those all-consuming orgasms, only occasionally taking breaks to wash down some more ibuprofen with some water. She certainly wasn't bored, but a little surprised because the ibuprofen hadn't really kicked in yet. If anything, her joints felt worse. "Oh well," she thought, "it's probably still getting worse before it'll get any better."
Other than the stiffness and soreness of her joints, she was feeling great. If anything, there was a warm and buzzing happiness within her, and a longing. A need to feel that next orgasm. And the one after that. To lose herself completely in the pleasure only her new toy could give her, and to do so again and again. But for now, she was hungry.
Carefully she moved about stiffly, trying to bend as little as possible, and, if she absolutely had to, would do so as fast as she could to minimize the period of pain. That made her movements kind of jerky, almost robotic in nature, and as she watched herself as she passed by the full length mirror, she couldn't help but laugh out loud at how silly her movements made her look.
When she arrived in the kitchen, she started looking through the refrigerator and the cabinets, trying to come up with something to make from what little was available. She was aware of a lot of recipes that she knew, but she didn't have the ingredients for any of them. So she tried to think of something original, but it seemed immensely difficult to be creative. After a while, she just gave up on it and decided to skip dinner altogether, even though she was hungry. "Well," she thought to herself as she mechanically walked back to her bed, "I'll just have a quick orgasm instead."
And so she did.
Waking up the next morning was hell for Rebecca. She was sweating profusely, her skin glistening with perspiration. The room temperature felt way too high, yet when she checked the thermostat she realized it was set to an even 70 degrees. Somehow she found that to be very strange, and decided to check her body temperature just in case. The pain in her joints seemed to be gone, although they still didn't move as they normally should. It was almost as if they were paralyzed now, and it took conscious effort to move them out of their frozen position, only for them to move way too quickly, immediately freezing in place again once she lessened the effort. In other words, her movements were even more jerkier and robotic than they had been the day before. And while she was glad that she no longer felt any pain, it didn't amuse her.
Neither did her body temperature. It was down to 95 degrees. She practically should be dead for all she knew. She checked her pulse. Being as upset as she was, she expected it to be quite high.
It turned out to be at an even 40 beats per minute.
Rebecca panicked. What should she do? Go see a doctor? No, it must be an adverse reaction to the ibuprofen. Call her doctor. Yes ... no, he mustn't see her like this ... maybe call 911? Everything rushed through her mind at once, the situation so complex, so overwhelming, so hard to think straight, to analyze ...
She utterly failed to come up with a plan of action. Rebecca just sat there, her mind all but shutting down at the complexity of the situation. She was completely unable to react. Then a thought struck her -- could it be her new pleasure toy that might cause all this? It had to be! Quickly, she started pulling at the straps around her hips that held it in place against her vagina, then suddenly stopped. There it was again -- that need, that hunger. One more time. She needed to use the device one more time before taking it off.
And so Rebecca succumbed to the lure of the device once again. And, while she was at it, decided that no, once just wasn't enough. Her fear of the device was pushed aside by the need to feel that pleasure time after time after time. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that she was addicted to it. And that it was probably too late to do anything about what was happening to her.
So the intense pleasure she was experiencing had a price way beyond those 300 dollars that she paid for the device. Although she had no idea what it might be. For all she knew it might be her life.
After using the device several more times, Rebecca managed to break the addictive cycle for a little while, tired, spent, and sweaty. She decided to get up, by now almost used to her jerky movements, and get herself a towel to dry herself off. Seeing herself in the mirror, she noticed how her skin glistened with sweat, and started to rub the towel over her skin.
To her surprise, the look of her skin didn't change.
She moaned loudly, dropping the towel and started to examine herself closer, as best she could with her current limitations. Her skin was smooth, too smooth as a matter of fact. Shiny, her body catching highlights here and there. It looked ... dead almost. Artificial. Like her whole body had been sealed into a thin, crystal clear layer of plastic.
Yet it was as if it was her own skin. She felt her touch wherever she checked, and trying to scratch it created fairly familiar sensations, a little dulled maybe, yet at the same time sharper than before. As if her skin tried to interpret the sensations -- soft touches were the ones she felt less, and more forceful ones intensified. Rebecca was intrigued by that. She played with the sensations for a little longer, then, spent and tired as she was, fell into a restless, uneasy sleep.
When she woke the next morning, she didn't feel any different than she had the night before. Yet when she got up and looked at herself in the mirror, she was surprised. When she didn't fight it, which seemed increasingly difficult, her legs drifted apart into an almost obscene 'V', and her arms would bend to a 90 degree angle at the elbows, while her upper arms stayed right at her sides. Keeping her mouth closed also took quite an effort, and, all in all, it was quite strainful.
In addition to that, she felt lightheaded. No, not just lightheaded, but light all over. And then it was back. That familiar urge to use the device. The hunger for pleasure. For an orgasm that only the device could give her.
This time though, she resisted. No, she wouldn't give in. The feeling passed. But she still was horny. She needed someone to please. Someone who would understand. She stumbled over to the phone, looking up the number of the shop where she had bought the device. Maybe Carol could ... ?
She dialed the number. Carol answered. Talking was hard, her mouth felt strangely numb and cottony. But she managed to get Carol to understand, and she had promised to be right over.
Rebecca felt strangely excited about this. Here was someone she could serve, she could please ... someone who would take pleasure in her. And because that excited her so, she decided to fill the void of waiting by using the device again. Twice, for that matter.
When the doorbell rang, she stumbled over towards it, her body feeling even lighter than before, and, she noticed as she passed her mirror, her skin having turned a really fake beige color. But it didn't matter now. Carol was here, and she couldn't wait to greet her and make her feel good and ...
She opened the door, and Carol slipped in, seemingly not surprised the least bit by what she saw, just as the man that was with her. Rebecca's eyes grew wide at the sight of the man, and she knew she needed him. Please him. Ignoring Carol, she rubbed herself against him, feeling her smooth skin slide over his clothes so easily. He picked her up, carried her over to the bed while Carol closed the door and followed him quietly.
"She has come along nicely, don't you think, Ron? She must have been using the device quite a bit."
"Yeah. Maybe a couple of times more, and she will have gone all the way. I suggest I take care of that right away. After all, we currently 'are' out of stock."
Rebecca was confused. What were they talking about? Did they know? Was this planned? Carol obviously had known ... A trap? Must be a trap! So hard to think about it. So difficult. Much too difficult to think about. She needed to please. Ron. Please Ron. Yes. That was the important thing.
Ron put her down on the bed, and Rebecca tried to reach out to him, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she was caught in a pool of molasses. She watched as Ron took off his pants and shorts, and straddled her upside down, so that his hard penis was just barely in reach of her mouth. "Suck me!" Ron barked at her, and she felt strangely compelled to oblige. She fought hard, but it was virtually impossible for her to move enough to take him in all the way. But he helped her by thrusting himself into her mouth deeply, doing most of the work, while all she did was provide her mouth for him. She felt so elated, so good, knowing that she was pleasing, pleasing him. She felt strangely at home, when suddenly that flow of thoughts and sensations was slowly drowned out by the familiar pulsing and tingle of the device, the buildup as strong as ever, no, stronger yet, ohmygoodness, stronger, taking me further, higher, yes, yes, yes ...
And almost at the same time, Ron ejaculated in her mouth, but she no longer was aware of it. He pulled out from her mouth, now frozen in a perfectly round 'O'-shape, her arms frozen in the 90 degrees bend as if to hold on to an invisible lover, and her legs spread wide apart. She was lying motionless on her bed, her features no longer real, just differences in color on her plastic skin. Ron and Carol looked at her, a perfect vinyl lovedoll on the bed, frozen motionless into position, mindless, begging to please. Carol sighed.
"She really was nice, you know," she said to Ron. "She didn't deserve this."
Ron reached towards the back of Rebecca's neck and pulled, and as the plug popped out, she slowly deflated with a quiet hiss as the air left her plastic body. He looked back at Carol while undoing the straps that held the device up to Rebecca's now wilting plastic pussy.
"What is your problem?" he barked at her. "You were the one who sold her the device in the first place. Why the sudden scruples?"
"I don't know," Carol replied. "I kind of liked her."
"Oh yeah? Well, then maybe you want to join her!"
And with that, he swung around, wrestled her to the ground, snatched the remote from her and shoved the device down into her pants, then pressing the button.
"Noooooooo ..." he heard Carol cry as the device started to work its magic on her when suddenly he felt a pulsing pleasure rush through him.
He had forgotten to let go of the device.
They both knew instinctively that they were doomed. Nobody could resist the temptation of the device once they had felt the pleasure it could give.
A couple of days later, the police checked Rebecca's apartment in an effort to find her, but all they found was three blow-up sex dolls, one male and two female models, two of which were still inflated. But since no evidence for a crime was found, Rebecca was simply declared missing, just like the couple who ran an adult store several blocks away. Shortly thereafter, both cases were closed.
Nicole, the neighbor who let the police into Rebecca's apartment, saw the little butterfly-shaped vibrator with the matching remote control next to it. She always wanted to try one of those, and she couldn't help but pick up the two items and slip them into her pocket, deciding she would try them later that evening ...