The Wishing Stone Part 2:

Paradise Lost

 

In the words of the revered Popeye, “It was all I could stands and I couldn’t stands no more!”

 

I was on the brink of bashing my face in with my easel as my frustration and sexual anguish both agonized and terrorized me.

 

It had been two weeks since Pussy Slave had given me the Wishing Stone, the stone that by rights should’ve been the rightful property of Samantha Parson…the woman seemingly trapped in Pussy Slave’s over-sexed body.

 

She was indeed a Pussy Slave in every single aspect.   The Zen of her climax forced her to always arch with her back, breasts up and forward, and bend with her hips.  She walked on the very tips of her toes permanently and naturally like a ballet dancer.  I had noticed that this was because she had taken to wearing full-length rubber leg ballet-boot ultra-heels (at last count a staggering 10 Inch Steel Extended Ballet-Boot Heel) just to compensate for her body’s torment.  I was shocked she could even maintain balance.  The boot-heels of course were the key to the delicate balance of her hobbling, as they were tightly secure and locked her knees in tight flawless rubbery pillars of beauty.  But in fact her center of gravity lie directly on her pussy, so any movement she made triggered it like a hydraulic set of 1600 horsepower engine pistons, the very concept of a dildo now becoming a foreign and obsolete term to her.  The invisible force that constantly overpowered her body, yet never released her from consciousness, made her jut her pussy outward, swaying  her hips and pelvis to and fro when she walked in tight 10 inch strides.  She wasn’t even wearing a hobble dress or chains at all.

 

She was cursed with a constant flow of cum, no other inner fluids, and she was never dry.  Her voice had a tendency to be giggly and lackadaisical with tiny slurps, hisses, and moaning when she spoke.  I had somehow managed to bypass the constant cumming problem by creating a special catheter seal across her wet pussy.  It would slowly catch the fluids and two small tubes wrapped around her waist (well hidden in layers of her corset rubber) would feed her fluid into a pair of small pouches at her thighs.  I developed a system that whenever the pouches were full, a special variant on the chastity belt, with a locking mechanism of sorts. But this one designed to tighten around her hips when the bags were full, drawing her legs together ever so slightly.  The pouches themselves had an extra safety chamber built in them that prevented overflow during the changing process.  It wasn’t quite like changing a diaper, but as I learned how to be more efficient at changing the pouches, I taught her how to do so, as the slight tightening of her hips had the effect of causing her to teeter about the house (something she didn’t like to experience often as it made her dizzier than she normally was).

 

It was amazing but, Samantha Parson’s house was filled with a warehouse’s supply of bondage and latex equipment.  Nothing I would personally want to try on myself, as it seemed to be all dedicated to the female anatomy, but to Pussy Slave, it was heaven.  It was as though Samantha had prepared Pussy Slave for being created from the very beginning.  There was even a huge stockpile of catheters, pouches, and tubes, as well as a number to call if she ran out of stock.  This woman could’ve only been best described as a rubber girl-scout.

 

But this lead me to wonder, what sort of life had Samantha been leading before it was lost?  Before she became the drooling pussy-fied creature that lived to serve me and me alone…Whose only solace, if you could even call it that, was in having sex with me.

 

“Master, Pussy Slave is wondering why you haven’t made a wish yet.”

 

At the time she was wearing some odd combination of her usual 10-inch ballet-boot rubber heels, latex chastity belt, tight rubber corset with cups around her breasts, this all interlocked with long rubber-sleeved gloves that wrapped around the shoulders, over the top of the corset, and tightly locked itself around her neck.  She playfully referred to this as her “Pussy-suit” as it wasn’t quite a cat-suit, but it had all her cum-draining equipment built into it.  This quite literally served as a form of protective undergarment, which she habitually wore under all her fashion.

 

Over this she wore what appeared to be a Furisode, a rubber kimono shined to black perfection, with a visible red rubber Nagajuban beneath this.  Beneath that was a similarly black rubber Hadajuban-Susoyoke ensemble.  This was literally locked into place by some sort of red Obi-Chastity belt hybrid.  Even her golden hair had several black combs and hairpins raising her hair in a large tight loft.  The sleeves of the Furisode hung in shiny red and black rubber drapes about 2 feet off the ground or more.

 

Of course she somehow managed to accentuate this with shiny black lipstick and a form of reddish eye shadow.  Her lips pursed into an O when she spoke.

 

“Does Master like what he sees?  Pussy Slave will try anything on for Master!”

 

Of course I adored it.

 

I have never made it a habit of visiting a woman’s closet, but in the case of Pussy Slave, I made exception.  It felt like I was stepping inside Narnia, her rubber wardrobe was vast and diverse.  The outfits were formal or informal, even casual for hot summer days.  Sometimes they were multi-cultural.  She even had a custom-tailored black rubber Islamic Burqa…which I’m sure many men over there would’ve shouted Jihad over.

 

It was strange, but when she had said she would throw out her normal clothing, she literally wasn’t kidding.  Nearly every garment in the closet, neatly folded, hanged, or mounted was made of latex rubber.  I don’t recall ever going shopping with her in public, and it was always torture for her to stay at home when I went grocery shopping.  The fact her wardrobe was large, and that the vast majority of it was rubber said something about her personal finances.

 

Even stranger, but on nearly a daily basis, I checked her mail (since I was living with her and technically the caregiver and custody responsibility fell on my shoulders, so it wasn’t a federal offense) to find a check for $5,000.  The checks weren’t checks per se…but they were receipts that stated all the money was in her personal bank account.  Additional mail was sent along with these statements about automatic transfer of funds to certain bill agencies.  Near as I could tell, this house was completely owned, bought, and paid for by her.  And she had previously told me she was on the verge of killing herself?

 

It was on a somewhat rainy day I receive and signed for a packaged addressed to Samantha Parson.  Opening it when in the house, I discovered it was another series of latex garments.  The sender was anonymous, as no return address was listed.  There was also an additional check receipt forwarded to her account for $5,000.

 

Even though for the most part the house was fully stocked with food and supplies, all provisions tend to come out of my wallet.  So it came as a surprise to me that she was well financed, even in her “condition”.

 

Doing a little snoop work, I had found her bank account number, pin, as well as her card.  Knowing full well that she was incapable of doing any investments anytime soon, I decided to call the bank that afternoon.

 

“Hello, I’m calling on behalf of Samantha Parson; I wish to request a Balance Statement?”

 

“Sir, might I ask who is speaking?”

 

“Oh no!” I thought, if they did a security check on me and thought I’d stole her bank card, I’d get arrested, or worse!

 

“Um, my name is John Reese, Samantha Parson is currently indisposed for an undisclosed length of time and she asked me to check up on her personal account.”

 

“If I could enquire, sir, are you currently in residence with her?”

 

“Um…yes I am.” I couldn’t believe how forthright and honest I was in responding.

 

“Sir…I have been advised previously in a written statement by her, that should anyone call on her behalf, I should immediately forthwith transfer account information and financial equity control over to the person in question.”

 

“I’m not sure I follow you.” I said, somewhat confused.

 

“She is a very large member of the bank community, so it was a personal request on her part that should any male party request implicitly about her current account balance, specifically on her behalf, while living in residence with her; I was to transfer control of her account to the man in question.  It is, as you say, you’re lucky day…”

 

“I suppose it is.” I said calmly.

 

“You’re new account balance comes to…500 Billion.  This of course does not include the bonds, jewelry, or personal bank investments, as always, I am advised to inform you that your current investment in Rubberize Incorporated Stock has climbed to 5000 times its value.  All asset control will now be under the name of John Reese in the name of Ms. Parson.”

 

A lump caught in my throat as he said this.  We had been living off my grocery money for the past 5 weeks.  And even though I have a rather decent income…it paled in comparison to this.

 

“T-Thank you…that will be all.”

 

“I understand it is a bit shocking, isn’t it?” The clerk sounded like he was grinning from ear to ear in the phone. “Of course I assume you yourself have a large investing responsibility to take care of Ms. Parson’s assets as you will be doing in the near future.  The granddaughter of the Founder of Rubberize Incorporated, the multi-billion-dollar global industry most certainly has much to do.”

 

“Ah…yes.”  I felt my knees begin to buckle as I hung up the phone.

 

It explained all the receipts, the package with new rubber garments in it…and the vast wardrobe.  I had enslaved the most beautiful and wealthiest woman on the face of the earth!  And all she could do was cum, stroke her pussy, and call me Master…

 

Hobbling up to me, she asked me again, very insistent this time, although very sexily.

 

“Master!  How come you haven’t made your wish yet?”

 

The subject always returned back to that blasted Wishing Stone…I was at my wits end.

 

Now, financially speaking, I could have anything I wanted.  And I felt as though I didn’t deserve any of it.

 

“Master?  Do you not like how Pussy Slave looks?”  Her lips curved into a sexy pout as she took my hand and began to gently suck on my finger.

 

“No, it’s not that…” I stated flatly.

 

In fact it was much more than that…the stone terrified me.  I was afraid that should I wish for something else I might end up ruining someone else’s life.  I didn’t want that.

 

“I’m sorry, Pussy Slave…it’s just I need to finish my art project.”

 

“Pussy Slave understands, Pussy Slave will finish posing for Master.”

 

In fact that was the whole purpose of her wearing the rubber kimono.  I had managed to set up a small studio inside her house…by her personal begging request of course.  She had actually performed something called a “back prayer” to me as a means of asking for me to set it up in her home.  I had no idea she was so flexible.

 

The truth of the matter was…I was getting artistically frustrated with my work.  Certainly it was progressing well as far as art could be determined…but it seemed rather…lifeless.  Of course I was thoroughly satisfied with the model herself, but the essence of my project…The Final Woman, was far from complete in the truest sense of the word.

 

I had drawn several very epic styles of art depicting the woman I virtually obsessed over.  The first image depicted was that of a woman’s sex…but the shape of it was what I referred to as “lovingly distorted”.  It was a vulva, but at the same time it hung limply outside the body like a penis.  It was twice as long as most penile lengths get, and twice as wide.  The details that shown were rippling telescoping muscle tissue, and the clitoris appeared as a long shaft of flesh along the top of it.  Some could refer to it as a Penile-Vagina.  It could both penetrate and be penetrated, the epitome of phallic symbols.

 

The next piece of artwork I had done was also rather unorthodox, it portrayed a woman posing while stretching her butt-cheeks wide…instead of an anus inside the cleft of her cheeks, a large vagina was in place.  If one examined the piece further up, one could see that her face was turned behind her.  Her lips, including her nasal passages were all shaped like vaginal circles.  Every orifice on her body was a vagina…

 

This occurred to me to be a recurring theme.  I continued to draw another solid sketch…this of a woman facing the front with her abdomen the center of the page.  Her navel was depicted as a large vagina above her own, and her body detailed as slick black latex.

 

Unresisting myself, I decided to draw a more detailed depiction of the woman’s face.

 

Her hair was a deep rubbery sheen, her eyes black shiny orbs, and her lips in a sideways slit of vaginal pleasure complete with clitoris although the outer lips retained the same shape as that of a normal sexy pair of lips.  Her nasal passages also depicted in the same manner of shiny black rubber.

 

Lastly I drew instead of nipples upon the obsidian breasts, but a pair of deep, smiling O shaped lips on each nipple.  The roundness of it was large enough to put one’s fingers through yet was blocked by a wall of black rubber, holding the breasts tight and firm.

 

In another picture, I drew something similar yet very different.  In this picture I depicted a woman who sat naked upon a bench, fingering her clit and her breast, but the picture was quite different that most people might expect.  Her breasts and vaginal areas were all exact duplicates of her face, eyes, nose, and mouth…especially the mouth…instead of fingering her vagina…she was sticking a finger inside an additional mouth she had. The lips were drawn with voluptuousness in mind.  Her cupped breast was depicted as sighing in comfort as though some handsome man were stroking her face gently, while the other breast had the look of cooing and on the verge of climax.

 

My drawings continued to take shape in this manner…trying to capture the essence of what the Final Woman would be depicted as...

 

My next picture was that of a single woman wearing a rubber dress standing in a busy crosswalk.  She was surrounded by men of determined size and shape.  Each and every man was looking at her with lust in his eyes…as though she were the last woman on the face of the earth.

 

The next image, painted, was that of a pregnant woman giving birth…however the view was from the front…but inside her open vulva, instead of the usual crowning…a blonde haired woman’s head…exactly identical to the woman giving birth was coming out.  Both appeared to be climaxing simultaneously…I had also depicted it so that the newborn woman’s body appeared to be melting away from her “mother’s” body…as though the two of them were a Paramecium Cell that had just split from itself.

 

The latest piece, an ink printing, portrayed a woman touching another woman’s breasts, but it appeared as though the second woman were slowly fusing with the first.  It appeared as a form of reverse-birth as it were.

 

And then finally…out of sheer desperation…I began to draw Pussy Slave in her latex kimono.  It draped across her body with so much shiny enthusiasm.  The only revealing pieces of flesh that appeared upon her body were her face and hair from her neck up.  The rest was a mesh of rubber and more rubber.  The inversed U-shaped ballet-heels stood steady, natural, and rock-still as she posed, the strength of her en point toes were probably capable of lifting and supporting at least 300 lbs easily, a testament to at least 10 to 12 years in heel training…either that or a really insane ballet class.

 

When finished with the sketch, I liberally applied a form of colored penciling and some water to spread the colors evenly.

 

I collapsed in sheer fatigue in my chair nearby.  Leaving the artwork to dry and settle on its paper.  Pussy Slave saw I was finished and looked at me gingerly.  Hobbling over to me via her pointed heels she quietly knelt down by me and leaned her head gently on my hand.  I felt the urge to caress her face growing as she gazed deeply in my eyes.  I could tell her face was flush with frustration at not currently having sex with me.  If she wasn’t having sex with me, she wasn’t happy.  She began to gently lick my hand and wrap her tongue around my fingers…

 

Was it me or was her tongue longer than usual?  The look on her face was as though she were licking ice cream of the most delicate chocolate.  She slowly devoured every taste of my hand in her mouth.  Her eyes closed slowly as she slowly licked my hand…gently and softly she drifted downwards.

 

Ever so softly, ever so slowly, she unzipped my jeans and pulled open my briefs to find my pulsing red member there.  It felt as though my heart sank right into my pants as the blood pressure steadily thudded in my lower portions.

 

First her tongue wrapped itself around my cock, spiraling for what seemed like an eternity.  Then her mouth, starting with the edge of her lips, came into contact with the tip of my penis.  As her lips applied gentle pressure, I felt it stiffen even more.  She let her lips press slowly on the tip, as if kissing my member deeply and passionately.  Then, ever so slowly, she continued to press her lips on my member till they parted.  Smoothly, her lips found themselves at the base of my penis and became the ultimate natural cock sheath as her lips stretched across the length of the shaft.

 

When I was inserted into her mouth, she used her tongue to lick the underside of my shaft so that it began to warm up from the mild friction.  I felt myself begin to cum, and at that instant her lips became firm.  I could feel her breath inhale my semen.  She sucked on it like a straw, it felt so great.  I began to lose myself…the climax inside me was at a strong build.  Noticing this, she tightened her lips around my cock and would not let go, trapping my member in her pink orifice.

 

I felt myself involuntarily rock back and forth inside of her…spasming as she continued to drink my essence greedily.  Each spurt of cum she drank drained me of energy.  Like some sort of bloodthirsty vampire, she swallowed up what had been my conscious thought.  I was thinking of something…muttering something about desiring the Final Woman.

 

She moaned in stereo with me, but I would be the one who would collapse.

 

I passed out, pure and simple.  When I awoke, I found myself lying in her bed…although it had slowly become our bed in the course of time I was here.  Well actually, by her determination, I wasn’t in bed.  I was just lying in part of the bed.

 

Pussy Slave insisted that she was my bed, and that I always put my cock inside her before I go to sleep.  At first I was unwilling, but as the days continued, she began to whimper and moan, deep into the night.  I found myself having trouble sleeping…so I complied, much to her pleasure.

 

I caught her standing and looking in the mirror nearby, holding up the wishing stone up to her neck.

 

“Pussy Slave has a wish she wants to grant to Master, but doesn’t know if it will come true.”

 

I was afraid of that.  Some dark gears were churning in that Pussy-infested mind of hers.  And considering that I was lying on my back, a good ten feet away from where she was, next to the mirror.  I could only imagine what was going on in her mind.

 

“Pussy Slave figured out how Wishing Stone works…Master got Master’s wish because Master was looking in the mirror while wishing.  The Wishing Stone flashed and granted Master’s wish that way!”

 

It slowly clicked on in my head that that had been the reason why my wish worked so well…the flash of light hit the mirror and somehow the light hit Samantha, causing the wish to be granted.

 

“Pussy Slave will now make Master’s wish come true!” She declared defiantly.

 

In a panic I tried to stand up, but realized that while I was sleeping, she had tied my hands in straps to the bed.

 

“That tricky minx!” I thought.

 

“Pussy Slave is sorry for doing this to Master, but Master wouldn’t try to wish Master’s wish on his own…”

 

“I don’t know what you’re planning on doing, Pussy Slave, but you’d better stop it, right now…Master commands it.”

 

“Pussy Slave is willing to take whatever punishment Master has in mind…as long as Master gets his wish!” she began to smile softly while glancing at the mirror at my reflection.

 

Taking a deep breath while staring at the mirror at herself and the stone, myself helpless to stop her…she made her wish.

 

“Pussy Slave wishes she could become Master’s Final Woman!!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

 

Before I knew it, a bright flash flooded the room.  I was blinded by the sudden burst of light, which left an afterimage in my vision.  After the blurriness cleared, I looked up to see Pussy Slave was hovering over me.  She was smiling so brightly, I had no idea what was going on.

 

She took the straps off my wrists so that I could sit up.

 

Slowly she stripped down to nothing, as if anticipating the results of whatever her wish entailed.  At first all I could see of her was that she was cumming on the floor like always…which perturbed me, but then a wave of dizziness hit her and she tumbled into my arms on the bed.

 

Her breathing had slowed to a halt…as had the cumming.  I was worried for a moment, but then I saw something I didn’t expect.  Her breasts began to grow and inflate like some sort of large balloons, but filled with something.  Shapes and bumps began to appear on them that resembled that of a human face.  Two sets of eyes appeared on her breasts which opened and then instantly glanced at me…patches of flesh sank and melt downwards to form a pair of noses on each breast…then below that a pair of pink lips formed and separated, forming an O at the apex of where her large breast once was…the lips themselves seemed to have a two-part appearance to them.  First that the upper portion of the lips appeared to be those of a woman…but the sides and inside the lips now took the more familiar shape of a vagina.

 

I heard gentle moans come from each breast as the two living breasts came to orgasmic life.

 

I quickly glanced down to her abdomen to find it was slowly becoming firm and smooth to the touch.  Her navel closed shut into non-existence, and in its place a slit opened then spread into yet another Vaginal O shape this also appeared to have nose and eyes and lips as well...

 

I heard her voice spasm and shake while her breasts echoed the sentiment.  Looking up at her face, her eyes were fluttering rapidly as her mouth and nose slowly developed vaginal properties.  She now moaned softly with a “Mwuh,” sound.  When her mouth opened, it spread wide like the widest circle I had ever seen…but when it closed, her sexy lips pursed shut and not a single aspect of the vagina could be seen.

 

By then she had slowly awakened and began to observe her own transformations.  They were slow in coming, but she could see each and every aspect of them taking hold.

 

She motioned for me to look down at her vulva and anus.  Her anus had eyes, nose, and mouth as well…the lips shined a glossy color of pink as her anus virtually grinned at me.  But the topping on the cake came when I saw the transformation to her vagina.

 

At first it sealed itself shut to reform…she gave a guttural moan during the process…it then opened even wider than it had ever been before…perhaps big enough to fit two large baseballs inside at the same time on top of the other.

 

Eyes and nose appeared afterwards…lips forming on the top and bottom of the vagina.  It began to smile at me…the smile grew bigger, but as the smiling face continued to smile…it got closer.

 

I blinked.  Was I seeing things…?

 

The vaginal face that appeared extended itself a full three feet away from her pelvis.  A long shaft at the top of its shiny head with a long strip of stretched flesh that I could only assume was the clitoris.

 

I greeted it by touching it gently.  It moaned in response and shuddered.  A chain reaction was triggered, as then the semi-muffled anus moaned, followed by the stretched face on the navel, and then the twin moans of the breasts, finally ending in a rocked orgasmic scream from Pussy Slave herself…her voice sounded rounded and enclosed…as she could only form mooing sounds from her lips.

 

Each mouth on her body screamed and moaned repeatedly…like a symphony of orgasms she would’ve lost her balance and crashed to the floor had I not been holding her hand.

 

After her body seemed to stabilize…another transformation began to take place!

 

I wasn’t sure what to make of it, until I heard the cock/vagina/face panting heavily…it started gurgling…it began to dribble some black fluid from its mouth, which was immediately released as though she were ejaculating right then and there with a penis of her own!

 

But instead of firing off in spurts, the black fluid began to wrap itself around the face like a kind of layered gel.  The tan of her skin was being swallowed by the blackness…even the lips of the pussy turned black.  The fluid turned into an ocean and began to flow from the mouth all the way down the long shaft, coating every inch of it in shiny blackness…it slimed its way up between her legs to the other face inside her anus, which would soon enough be coated in it.  It began to travel down her legs toward her feet…which, incidentally still had the locked-on extremely high 10 inch ballet heels on…

 

This apparently didn’t matter to the fluid, because it instantly wrapped itself around the heels, merging, dissolving, and solidifying with every curve in them.  The fluid flowed over her toes and began to fill up…the original shape of her boots began to take form, heels and all…in fact the back heel began to widen in appearance and take on a semi-flexible nature to it, as Pussy Slave seemed to have some motor control over the heel and began wiggling it, it bent and stretched like an 11^th toe…or a really firm thumb.  It was spiked and hard like any other heel, but the foot was now forever bonded to the black material.  She could literally grip things with the toe of the heel and the opposable back heel like a pair of hard fingers.

 

As if it were waiting for me to observe it, the black fluid traveled up the backside of her legs flowing over the curves of her hips and waist.  By then it had reached her anus, but as it came into contact with the anus, at first it appeared to be flooding it.  The black liquid flowed and swelled upwards, thickening and filling the round convex contours of the inner parts of her butt-cheeks.  Soon, the vast canyon that was her anus had disappeared into a seamless round black ball.  Both her butt cheeks had fused together to form one round bulb…this extended downwards to round out the shaft of her vagina-cock.  But of course the black substance wasn’t finished…a small series of slits appeared in the round of her now-fused buttocks, one opened into a round O, while the others transformed into the same shapes as the face…however this face was flat and stretched like a sheet of paper with a hole in it.  Apparently the black stuff knew she would have to sit down on her face at some point.  The rubbery vagina lips on her round bulbous butt opened and closed in excitement as black eyes sunken inside the fused interior gazed at me with transfixed lust.

 

Watching the process continue, the gunk continued to climb and wrap itself into yet another orifice.  Her navel’s pussy-lipped face graciously accepted the black stuff as it invaded her pores….as it climbed even further, it stopped in a curved outline just on the borderline of her breasts.  I watched with amazement as the black stuff began to flow with synchronized voracity.  It gently glided up the back of her spinal column and slowly the liquid began to work itself into shape.

 

I heard a chirping yip as Pussy Slave had the breath pressed out of her as the black substance slowly tightened itself around her waist…tighter….tighter…even tighter still.

 

Not only was her waist disappearing, but it appeared as though she was getting taller as a result.  Her breasts began to extend upwards as the black stuff began to harden.  It solidified into a long shiny column along her back, as if the structure gave her permanent back straightening support.  It also appeared as though she could no longer bend at the waist but would instead have to force her hips and pelvis to bend in order to move.  Thin rows of black goop began to press deeply at her sides and stretch, forming some form of hard rubbery encasing, with flat portions on the sides of her waist.  This appeared to be for the purpose of making her waist easier to hold and grip.

 

Then at long last the shadowy slime began gliding its way across the faces of the twin pussy-breasts…they appeared to be gulping longingly at the black substance, as though it were nourishing milk.  At first the faces on the breasts faded away into the blackness of the rubbery substance, but then, as the breasts swelled to nearly twice their normal size and became like hardened rubber just as if it were a part of the corset (the sound of which was almost like a rubber balloon inflating), the faces soon melted back into the rubber.  Having been thoroughly rubberized, the breast-vaginas began to open and close their mouths in gasping pleasure.

 

I looked tenderly at what remained of Pussy Slave’s flesh…she would soon be swallowed up by her own wish…all for me.  The blackness began to travel much slower…almost as though it knew I was savoring the moment.  It wrapped itself in smooth curves over her soft shoulders, rounding them out to shiny perfection.  Then traveled down to the upper back and merged tightly with the corset, forming as it were shoulder armor.  The rubber substance washed down underneath her arms and conformed to the folds in that section of flesh…smoothing it out into hairless rubber perfection.

 

It began to glide down the lengths of her arms, hardening in some areas, and softening in others.  Her elbows apparently had developed some form of hardening substance around them, as bending them made the hardened rubber stretch automatically when she moved her joints upward, this forced a form of glossy shine to form on her arms even more brilliant than the natural surface.  This was also true of her legs as well to an extent.  The unbreakable rubber visibly could stretch itself even in hardened state, if she truly made an effort, although the corset-like armor was much thicker than the rest and therefore, virtually inflexible, as was the case for her thighs and knees, which were locked into thick tubes of rubber, forcing her to forever bend at the hip and walk in tight 10-inch hobble strides.

 

As the black stuff continued down her arms, they formed strange semi-ridged strips along the lengths.  When I touched them, they appeared to be smooth like the rest of the rubber, but had a sort of micro-grip to them.  This pattern also appeared on the lengths of her legs as well, and in other areas where it was assumed people would “grab” her attention, such as the lower portion of her breasts.  Even the rubbery penis-vagina she’d developed had a sort of semi-smooth surface on the sides of the shaft.  No-slip grip, even when wet.

 

It then slowly glided itself along the lengths of her hands.  She watched with ecstasy as the little tendrils of rubbery goodness engorged themselves around her small thin fingers.

 

The rubber that formed at the back of her hands as well as the palm formed a tight hardened gauntlet surface that was only stretchy at the finger joints…ensuring that closing her hands would always take effort and give off a stretchy rubbery shine every time.

 

Her hands, as encased as they were, gained and lost various properties as well.  When she formed a fist, no bones ever jutted out of the rubber, this was also true of every other joint in her body.  No poking, prodding, or punching.  It seemed as though the glove transformed into a soft mitt whenever she formed a fist as I could squeeze it without little pressure resistance or bone structure in her hand.  It felt like I was gripping a rubber ball.  Not that her bones didn’t exist…they were…more supple and flexible.

 

Her fingernails surprisingly reappeared through the rubber skin as it took shape.  They somehow managed to transform into a glossy rubber red color.  The nails themselves were longer and more pronounced than she had ever grown them.  They were at least an inch long…however, they were no longer sharp to the touch…in fact they were highly thick and flexible!  I could bend them to and fro without little resistance, and they were still durable.  Pussy Slave mumbled agreement that she didn’t feel any pain from her nails being bent or crushed…they simply returned back to their original shape almost instantly.

 

At about the time her nails had formed a red color, I discovered that portions of her body…namely her vagina-lips had grown a bright shiny red in tone as well, rubbery, flexible, stretchy, gleaming, and ready to please.  This contrasted beautifully with her solid black body.  It seemed as though her breast-vaginas were particularly supple, as I was able to fit all five fingers of my hand inside one of them.  The more parts of Pussy Slave’s body stretched, the more they reverted back to their original shape…well at least the shape she’d wished for.

 

Pussy Slave cooed quietly in my ear, informing me that she had saved the best for last, telling me that soon she would be swallowed by her own black rubbery vaginal juices.

 

The vagina-cock pulsed out more of the rubber substance once more as it glided up the body through the cleavage of her chattering rubber breasts.

 

I could tell by the concentrated look in her eyes that Pussy Slave was willing this to happen.  She was releasing the black fluid around her body slowly like a caterpillar spinning its own cocoon, watching it gently and gingerly shape her new body.

 

The black substance slowly rose in waves around her neck.  I felt like I was watching a black tide slowly engulf the beach that was her body.  It reached the apex-line of her neck, just beneath her jawbone, and ceased for a moment.  I knew what would come next.

 

The hardened rubber at the base of her spine traveled upwards in one large shift, stretching, guilding, gleaming, and merging with her neck muscles and the rest of the hardened rubber armor.  Her neck could no longer move without stretchy shiny effort as it was perched high and stretched tall like some kind of statue or trophy.  This was followed by the same grip-like substance taking shape around both sides of the length of her neck, perfect for gripping her head in various positions.

 

The black cum traveled its way up the back of her neck and into the various paths of the back of her scalp.  Gliding ever so slowly, her golden hair faded to long shiny black locks of stretchy perfection…during the transformation process, her hair grew of its own supple accord, stretching down the base of her hardened back, brushing just above the face of her flat but bubble-like vagina-anus.  The length of it was long, smooth, and the sheen was incredibly silky.  Not a single curl or stray hair could be found in the rubber hair.

 

I found I could stretch and pull it as hard as I wanted with little resistance from Pussy Slave.  Her head jerked back for a moment, but no pain was evident, in fact, I took a nearby magnifying glass to take a closer look…tiny little rubbery red pussy-shaped pores held the long black rubber hair follicles in place.  Tugging on her hair literally gave her thousands of tiny micro-orgasms…on top of this her  hair was at the perfect length for me to enjoy, and should I stretch it further, it would always revert back…just for me.  She simply smiled her O smile in satisfaction and continued to transform.

 

The rubbery cum wrapped itself in layers gingerly around her chin and lower portions of her mouth pussy’s lip.  She continued to smile as the other strands of black joy glided over her ears and into her inner ears.

 

With what sounded like a strange sucking noise, both ears audibly popped in unison and faded into the black rubber substance.  Apparently the rubber was taking all the air pressure out of the eardrum.  In place of her two audio faculties, large ear-sized pussy lips of red rubbery pleasure took their place.

 

I asked out loud if she could hear me…her response was that of a small orgasm.

 

“Amazing!” I thought, her ears were now converted into pussy lips that converted sound into pleasure!  The shape was also equally interesting as I could literally fuck her voluptuous red-lipped pussy-ears without much trouble.

 

With one last orgasmic gasp, the pungent black pussy goop flooded her eyes, nose, and pussy-lipped mouth.

 

Her face became a hard, smooth, featureless surface.  No blemish or ridge could be seen.  I could only assume that the black rubber was coating the length of her esophagus, and perhaps even her brain and other vital organs.  Talk about rubber on the brain!

 

I waited patiently for her to emerge from her rubber chrysalis.  The guilt I felt several weeks ago over taking her life away from her faded, just as her face had faded.  Her face represented the very life I was about to have…a clean black rubbery slate.

 

Gingerly I swept the rubbery hair from her face.  Haircuts would be impossible, I had assumed, as her hair was always at an exactly specified length down to her round rubber-ball ass.  Something also told me she was virtually indestructible at this point, that cuts would heal almost instantly, bones would never break but bend like thick rubber, and her rubber skin prison would be her heaven.  In almost a billion ways, she had become my heaven as well.  Stretching, pulling, pushing, touching, talking, almost every form of human contact possible granted her pleasure.

 

With a bubbly slurp, her face re-emerged from the flat rubber face.  Her nose had actually obtained stretchy properties to it, to compensate for having a pair of vaginas for nasal passages.  Just smelling things gave her an orgasm.  I was afraid to think what would happen to her if she sneezed!

 

Her round rubbery red O flattened into a big rubber smile.  Her eyes had become balls of black rubber that although in appearance looked to be blind; she could see things just as she always had...but in rubber-vision!  Not to mention she had eyes, nose, and mouth on her two breasts, navel, pussy, and anus.  They also appeared just above her ears on the sides of her head…but were well hidden by the impossibly thick rubber hair.

 

In many ways, when it came to sensory perception…she had become a goddess of the senses.  All areas of pleasure could be seen by her, and all areas of her body could be pleasured.  She had indeed become what I had wished for…The Final Woman.

 

She began to breathe heavily a few times, taking in the full excitement of her transformation.  Just inhaling air into her noses caused her body to flare to life.  Also, due to the rubbery stretchy surface…breathing in inflated her breasts somewhat, and breathing out issued a cute little squeak if she kept her mouth open.

 

Experimenting a little…she inhaled as much air as possible….the pair of breasts-pussies filled to their maximum…this resulted in two giant pussy heads, mouths forced wide into large O-shaped vortexes of pleasure, identical to the size of Pussy Slave’s own head, their black eyes glaring at me with lust.

 

Releasing the air, she squeaked with pleasure as her pleasured breasts retained their original rubber shape.  Next she stood at full height, taking in every aspect of her new body in the mirror that granted her the wish.

 

She turned her back to the mirror and glanced behind to see a happy round rubber-lipped anus opening and closing in anticipation. She then began to play with her rubber hair.  She stretched it to the floor and stepped on it with her heel.  Using the flexible opposable rubber ballet heel, she stretched strands of her hair individually…her head jerked, but she was in paradise.  Releasing the hair from under her foot, it almost snapped back into place like a large series of rubber-bands.  The snapping sensation alone excited her.

 

She then cradled the long sheath of her new-found pussy-cock which extended into the rubbery vision of her own face, its own rubber pussy-lips inviting me.  It was amazingly long, like an anaconda.  It could twist and stretch and curl and open and close at her whim.  It even retracted at her beckon, not that she wanted to retract it.  Apparently this reminded her of me, and in a whirl, she turned to show her Master how she had become his dream.

 

It took a few moments for her to get used to speaking through her newfound ‘mouth’ again.

 

“Oaathter, ook at Oosy Uwave!  I’m owuh Oinal Ooman!”

 

I took that to mean she had become the Final Woman…I couldn’t help it…in an instant I sat back down on the bed; kicking my feet and naked body up…I patted gently for her to come near me.  The vibrations of the bed rocked her senses, but she’d gotten used to the constant climaxing from my previous wish.

 

Waddling over to me, as she could no longer move her butt cheeks without experiencing an orgasm, she leaned down and swung her unbendable legs across my torso.  She wanted to come down on top of me like always, but the rubber gave her difficulty at the knees…instead she only managed to spread her own legs into the splits…as though she were on a gymnastics horse.  Her flexibility allowed her this movement, but her pussy’s lips were begging for the first kiss of my penis.

 

It was then she remembered the secret to her newfound appendage.  Closing her eyes in concentration, trying to block out the other orgasmic senses she was bombarded with, she willed it to life.  The rubbery black pussy-faced geisha snaked out from between her legs and hungrily latched onto my cock.

 

It alarmed me at first, but only at first…I had dreamed this would happen, and so in some twisted way my body was prepared for it.

 

I suddenly felt the sensation of rubber all inside of her telescoping pussy.  The rubber face glided hungrily along my shaft, massaging it to full and complete stimulation.  She extended herself a bit and the head of her pussy-cock nuzzled itself deep at the base of my penis…she managed to snake out her pussy-tongue which slathered itself over my testicular.  The saliva that came from the pussy-cock’s lips appeared to act as a mild lubricant, both stimulating me and making it all the easier to swallow.

 

In an effort of sheer will Pussy Slave’s pussy-cock became tall and erect…it was a strange sensation…a cock within a cock.  With a moan of effort, her pussy-cock began to pulse rhythmically.  Rubbery muscles along the shaft rubbed up and down my member in a heated massage.  The hot sensation was so intense I couldn’t tell if I was cumming inside of her or not.  The pressure around my shaft built up to the point I was somewhat worried her pussy-cock would bite it off in an instant.

 

I must’ve passed out for a moment, because I awoke to the sensation of rubbery lips licking and nibbling my own male nipples…which were at this point…well…a point.  My penis and genitals were new engulfed in her abdomen’s pussy, and for some strange reason, it felt like my nose was fucking a vagina.  My right hand was free, and I could feel the smooth rubber-ball ass I had been mesmerized by before.  My left hand appeared to be occupied by long strands of perfect rubber hair.

 

I couldn’t hold back anymore, fear, my superego, my ego…all shattered before Mr. Id…adrenalin hit me like a ton of bricks and rocked my back and arms.  My vision went red to a feral, primal state.  The feeling was hard to describe.  I was being fucked by this gorgeously perfect rubber woman in my sleep, and my body let her have her way long enough.

 

With the strength of a lion, my left hand got an iron grip on her long supple hair.  I yanked it back with a strength I didn’t know I had in me…her head whipped backwards in both shock and supreme pleasure as I collided with her face.  My tongue slithered wildly inside her pussy-mouth, licking both the inside of her and on the edge of her lips, teasing her.

 

Simultaneously my right hand slid ever so smoothly down her flawless rubber back, inserting my thumb into those gorgeous rubber anus-lips.  I thumbed and pressed and dug into her anal region…attacking her navel pussy with the genitalia she had engorged it on only seconds ago, bombarding her on at least 4 fronts.

 

This had apparently knocked her off balance, because she tumbled backwards on the bed.  The bed was large enough for me to press my advantage, and so I took it.  With what felt like animal-reflexes, I grasped her pussy-cock, stretching it full length, leaving her helpless to my whims…and shoving her own cock into her navel pussy…this engaged both of her senses and she instantly reacted by kissing both pussies simultaneously…the two genital faces fell in love, and an epic amount of pleasure ensued.

 

I pressed my attack by carefully sliding my foot underneath her backside…feeling around, I managed to find it…I sat Indian-style with my legs wrapped around her waist.  In a moment of creative brilliance, I inserted my toes into her anal pussy.  Once again she was bombarded on three fronts and her senses were beginning to heighten with sensitivity.

 

I shoved my pelvis over the top of her pussy-cock as it inserted itself with a wet pop into her naval pussy.  The weight of my body didn’t hurt her at all, but more or less frustrated her that she was being pleasured instead of me.  Almost on instinct she threw up her hands in defense…which I quickly grabbed easily with the no-slip grip on the sides of her rubber wrists…squeezing them gently…I forced her hands open, but squeezed each hand’s five fingers and thumb together…in one quick movement while crossing her arms in a semi-wrestling pin I inserted 10 fingers into two rubber breast pussies…which she had no choice but to engorge herself on the pleasure of.

 

Little did she know she was now trapped without the use of her arms or legs.  For emphasis I jammed her fingers deep inside the pussy breasts which instinctively swallowed hard around her own digits.  I was far from finished.

 

She was now laying on the bed with me on top of her…her gorgeous black rubber hair spilling out over the bed like a black waterfall, my penis teasing the two pussies stuck inside one another to do anything about it.  I knew what I had to do.

 

Leaning forward I pressed my knees flat against the bed, hugging her incredibly slim rubber waist, while doing this I pushed my feet forward and upwards driving them even further up Pussy Slave’s divine anal pussy, while my knees moved forward, they wrapped around her tight elbows, clamping down and pinning her hands in place inside her breast-pussies.  My buttocks rested heavily upon the two pussies, but I had both my hands free and my cock was inches away from her voluptuous pussy-mouth.

 

I felt her try to kick in resistance, but since her legs couldn’t bend except at the hip and pelvis, it was useless.  I brought my cock down like a jackhammer onto her rubber face, drilling her with all my strength…my free hands now placed my thumbs into her pussy-ears, my remaining digits them proceeded to grab her hair in large clumps and pull with all the energy I had.  I screamed “Pussy Slave!” each time I collided with her body…even the sound of my guttural voice shook her ear pussies to their very core as if being thumb-fucked wasn’t enough!

 

I had successfully penetrated all 7 of her Goddess-fucking members…it almost felt like some sort of prophesy had been fulfilled with the number 7.  Well, to say the least no-one in that room felt more fulfilled…let alone filled…than Pussy Slave.

 

When I came back to my old self…I realized what had just happened.  I was breathing heavily with my cock and nearly all my body weight jammed deep inside her pussy-mouth.  I could feel wet cum erupting from every pore of her being.

 

She had just about exploded.  White cum poured out in spigots: out her anus, her mouth, her ears, her hair scalp, her breasts came like water pumps…her pussy-cock and pussy-navel were virtually flooding each other.  As if fluid could not come out of any other orifice she started to cry.  Her pussy-mouth swallowed its own cum, while greedily devouring my shaft.   Her body was a black rubbery mass of milky white.

 

I realized the adrenalin rush was fading quickly and so I proceeded to untangle myself from her.  I lay on the bed beside her, dead tired.  I could hear a large fluid-sucking noise and I determined that she had drunk all the cum she had just spurted…every part of her body had a pussy…and each pussy had a mouth of some kind.  It came and it sucked, repeatedly like a machine.  The thousands of suckling pussy pores on her head vacuumed up the cum in her hair like a sponge…the sound of which sounded something like Rice Crispies crackling in milk.  She proceeded to lick her lips and body in pure self-indulgence…as though she were a living piece of dessert and savoring every bite.

 

I was tired, but in good spirits.

 

Pointing to a few drops of cum remaining betwixt her rubbery cleavage, I said, “You missed a spot.”  She somehow managed to lick herself gingerly, like a giant cat…well a giant pussy at least.

 

“Did Master like the wish Pussy Slave made?” she said between squeaks of heavy breath between her pussy-lips.  She had already adjusted to speaking through her round rubber sex lips.  The tears in her eyes only moments before had vanished mysteriously, her water-proof face revealing no trace of them.

 

“Yes…yes, Master liked it very much…” I heaved a huge sigh.  I felt my animal instinct slowly pace around in circles a few times in its cage inside my mind before going back to sleep.  My body felt sore…my penis felt deflated.  If I had cum, I must’ve came at least two gallons like Pussy Slave did on a regular basis.

 

I must have had a small spurt of adrenalin left, because on complete sexual impulse I immediately turned and addressed the rubber sex goddess now lying before me, her various pussy-shaped lips opening and closing in sexual rhythm.  Even the inversed U-shaped 10-inch rubber ballet-boots clicked with pleasure with their wiggling heels.

 

“Pussy Slave!” I had suddenly developed a commanding tone.

 

“Yes Master?” She bolted upright to attention…completely refreshed and ready to go.  Her various orifices hung on my every word. Her pussy-cock began swaying to and fro like a cat’s tail.  She was utterly chomping at the bit, ready to go again.

 

“From this day forth you must follow my commands to the letter.  If you do not you shall be dealt with accordingly.  And I will be much stricter from now on, understand?”

 

The moment I said the phrase ‘dealt with accordingly’ she gave a squeaky yelp.  She knew exactly what I meant.  I had just dominated all her senses and it was all she could do to keep from going crazy on me again.

 

“I understand you’re in a constant state of climax and that you have many other limitations that most women do not.  You are in a restrictive corset, you are trapped in latex skin with permanent ballet-boot rubber heels, and such things like pulling on your hair or hearing, smelling, or even the slightest audible sound is an orgasm in your physical experience.”

 

I had just realized I was giving her a tremendous orgasm just by speaking to her.  At this point, I also realized she was listening intently to my commands, which seemed to bypass any good sensations she was having.

 

“However…there will be rules to be kept in this house or in any other, and the rules will be doubly strict outside the house in public.  First and foremost, your constant cumming must cease…I understand it cannot be helped, but you now have the ability to swallow your own cum with each pussy.  I expect you to do so.  If I see so much as a drop of white spunk on the floor, I expect you to clean it up with the exact same orifice that ejaculated it, understand?”

 

I put emphasis on “exact same orifice” to make sure she got the message.  As a test, I pulled lightly on her hair, triggering another spasm which spurted up from her hair and down on the floor.

 

“Oops…sorry Master…” she pouted.

 

In an instant she was down on the floor, but try as she might she couldn’t get herself low enough to drink it with her head…her rubber legs continued to lock in long rubbery columns.

 

“You are a gymnast…so you shall act like one…” I said commandingly.  “If cum erupted from your hair…you shall stand on your head and eat it that way…if it came out your ass, you shall wipe your ass with it…if it comes out cock-pussy, I expect it to clean it up that way…if it came out of your breasts, you shall drink with your breasts along the floor…if it came out of your navel, you shall writhe on the floor with your navel pressed on it and lap it up….if it orgasms your ears…you will do reverse-prayer flexing and bring it down back into your ear…no exceptions.”

 

“Yes Master!” In a full flip, she arced her waist into a full head-stand, pressing her the top of her head hard against the floor, letting the hair lap up her pussy juices.

 

For some reason I was getting used to the idea of being called Master…and so when she was nearly finished cleaning up, before she kipped back onto her feet.  I grabbed her pointed ankles, forcing her to press her hands against the floor, locking her in upside-down rubber stasis.  Her ballet-boot toes and heels clicked together with delight.

 

“Master!” I had caught her by surprise, but struggle as she might, she was unable to break free…deliberately I stepped onto her rubbery hair, pulling upwards, forcing her to cum in the exact same spot she just cleaned.

 

“I expect you to drink any and all cum that appears on your sexes, if you must, gargle it and spit it into the sink or release it in the bathtub or toilet, but I will not allow it on the floor.”  I continued to stretch her hair with my foot…she repeatedly lapped the cum up with her rubber hair…almost greedily.  “Because I am your Master, you are not allowed to pleasure yourself unless I am pleasuring you.  That means no placing your pussy-cock into your navel-pussy…no placing your pussy-cock into your anal pussy.  You are forbidden to pleasure your breast pussies or mouth and ear pussies…pleasuring your hair follicle pussies is strictly forbidden…and even if you are forced to stand up in this house forever, you will never be allowed to pleasure your anus-pussy unless I am doing so.”

 

A devil of a dominatrix spirit had grabbed hold of my thoughts, making me think of new excruciating ways of torturing her with the ‘rules’ I was setting in effect.  Her pussy-ears absorbed the commands like an orgasmic sponge…complete and total obedience was her life’s purpose.

 

A squeak of sexual frustration came from her lips as she was both excited and tortured simultaneously.  She was beginning to cum from her hair again, so I had her lap it up once more.

 

When she finished cleaning, I took my foot off her long perfectly-retainable hair.  I was feeling devilish, so I gripped the special no-slip grips on her legs and spread them apart like I was parting a wishbone.

 

She felt her body stretch and bend as I pressed my weight upon her mobile heels attached to slender powerful legs of which she could not bend or move.

 

“I am your Master, and you are my Pussy Slave.”

 

She grunted with pleasure, the blood from being upside-down was rushing to her head…or was that cum rushing to her head?

 

“You are forbidden to extend your pussy-cock to anyone except your Master, and you are also forbidden to let anyone else pleasure you for any reason…should they attempt to do so, you must use your various skills as a hyper-flexible gymnast to escape.”

 

“Yes Master…” she stated while huffing and puffing.

 

“There are also several new rules that will be part of your regular routine in Master’s house.  First and foremost unless I am addressing you or any part of your genitalia, your members will not be allowed to speak, moan, groan, howl, or squeak.  The only speaking member you shall be allowed to use is the mouth on the front of your face.  Second, since you are a gymnast, you will behave like one…flexing and stretching will take place at 8 am sharp!  You will not only be doing stretching routines based on the gymnast method…but you will be doing stretching and balance routines based on the abilities of your rubber body…”

 

I began to list them as they came to my devious mind:  “This shall include, pussy-hair stretching, leg pretzel bending, pussy-cock twisting, hip twisting, reverse-prayer stretching, pussy O flexing, self-penetration without the use of hands or feet, pussy-anus stretching, pussy-breast stretching, pussy-mouth stretching, pussy ear-stretching, pussy-navel stretching…”

 

Her various red rubber pussies smacked and almost wet themselves at the intense thoughts of all the stretching she would do, it was all she could do to drink more cum she was about to spurt, with the added difficulty of me holding her body upside down, this made for a challenge as her various puss-parts began to flex and strengthen themselves, holding the torrent of white cum inside herself.

 

I continued, still leaning heavily at the apex of her crotch, placing pressure on both round pussy-anus and hyper-extended pussy-cock: “…You will learn to be able to wrap your legs behind your head and penetrate or stimulate every single orifice in your body simultaneously…you will learn how to stretch your body to unheard of lengths…you will learn how to tie your pussy-cock in a knot and untie it, you will learn how penetrate various orifices using the heels and ballet toes of your boots even if your knees are locked.  You will learn how to penetrate every single orifice in your body with nothing but your pussy-cock, you will also learn how to invert your pussy-cock and have it penetrate itself.  You will learn how to control your breathing to be able to inflate your pussy-breasts for long hours, even days.” 

 

My now booming voice continued with the various commands that her pussy-ears would memorize:  “You will learn ventriloquism with your various pussies.  You will learn to speak foreign languages with your pussies; you will learn how to pick up various objects with nothing but your pussies.  You will also be learning how to retain large amounts of water for any given time…you will learn how to become a floatation device for your Master, you will learn several kinds of martial arts and be able to use sleeper techniques with nothing but your pussies.  You will learn how to store several types of tools either for the purpose of martial arts or for escaping capture inside your body.  You will learn to use your extremely flexible body as a defensive weapon against anyone who will oppose your Master.  You will learn how to store and prepare food that was stored in your pussies.  You will learn how to multi-task using your pussies.  You will learn how to juggle using your pussies, you will learn how to computer-hack with your pussies.  You will know how to incapacitate both men and women with nothing but the muscles in your pussies.  You will learn how to use your rubber hair as a deadly whip; you will learn how to store vast quantities of foreign objects into your pussies.  And lastly…”  I couldn’t even believe I had said all that off the top of my head.

 

“You will learn how to be the Final Woman.” I had said.  “The Final Woman will be able to do anything and everything for her Master.”

 

Letting her stand, I had her regurgitate the list, as her eyes and pussy-ears had a form of photographic and audio-graphic memory when it came to her Master’s commands.

 

The boundless energy that filled her body for sex and only sex seemed capable of doing these nigh-impossible tasks.  After repeating what I had said to her, and without hesitation, she chirped happily.

 

“Yes Master!  Pussy Slave will do it!”

 

Time went by first in months, then in years.  It had been at least two years and already her body seemed in tip-top physical condition…well in truth it always had been, it was that way the day she transformed into her Rubbery self.  I had graduated from College quite a while ago…her former-self’s finances keeping us well taken care of.

 

Part of the difficulty of teaching her all these things, aside from dealing with cum, thoughts of myself having constant sex with her, and her constant climaxing…was letting her go out in public.  Using her ‘financial assets’ I devised a way around her being viewed in public, this was a special project by anonymous request directly from the Rubberize Inc. factory…a special synthetic skin was designed precisely to Pussy Slave’s measurements with a little adjustments here and there…mostly, it was simply a shoulder and synthetic rubber breasts with a mask cover that covered her face.  Most people simply assumed she had dyed her hair black., nobody bothered to look directly at her black rubber eyes, as she had a habit (or so I had taught her) of wearing darkened sunglasses.

 

Despite protests from various instructors, I insisted she wear those sunglasses during training, I also insisted upon staying with her during her training.  Seeing as most people assumed she was THE Samantha Parson, they were rather surprised that I was so commanding of her and the simple idea that she complied with all of it.  She never even once complained to them.  It was strange and erotically arousing to observe her train with her long rubber ballet-boots while performing such things as Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, Jujitsu, Karate, Kenpo, Aikido, Taekwondo, Judo, Kung-Fu, Tai-Chi, Capoeira, and a plethora of several other complex martial arts, her pussy-senses and body absorbed these skills as if the latex on her body had swallowed them up itself.  She had literally become the master of the ballet-boot heel as she could now break several blocks of cement with a single swipe of her deadly rubber vixen heel-toes; the 10-inch ballet-boots that had fused to her feet so long ago were virtually indestructible at this point.  She could do jump-flips, kicks, and even run full-sprint in them, although her voluptuous rubber-ball ass always wiggled when she did so…making her the perfect woman-sex-toy-warrior specimen.  She was even able to grip and hang upside-down from gymnast bars with these powerful heels of hers…like the claws of a black rubbery bat.

 

A lot of the training I couldn’t provide was provided via books and other materials.  In certain circumstances I taught her stuff I had learned myself.  She slowly caught on to the idea that she was a flexible rubber marvel, and that her body could do many more things than any other woman can and more.

 

It was interesting to watch her go through her daily “personal” routine as I had taken to calling it.  The truth of the matter was…being the lustful man I am, I simply had her do these routines so that, in the event I became aroused enough to do something about it…she would be able to perform 300 to 400 ways of having sex with me.  This was my way of keeping my perfect rubber sex goddess in tip-top condition.

 

I just about programmed her like a rubber robot.  She was able to either please me visually by pleasuring herself in the most strenuous way possible, or she had the option of just simply pleasing me if and only if I gave her permission to do so.  She took to my strict orders like a cat to catnip.

 

Of course, since I was in a permanent relationship with her, I seldom ever had time for friends, but they seemed to pale in comparison before the mighty rubber Amazon that constantly lusted after me.  She never got used to the idea that I didn’t always want sex like she did…and it frustrated her to no end…sometimes it even reached a boiling point.

 

One night she had regressed to nothing but sitting in the bathtub, basting in her own cum juices.  It wasn’t that she was mad at me.  She was mad at herself for constantly thinking about me and constantly wanting to absorb my sex into her being.  She felt that after all the training she’d gone through she could rise above that.

 

After a long time of getting used to the idea that I was her Master and nothing would change that…I finally got the hint that I was being a little hard on her.

 

As a means of apology I decided we would go some place to have a little fun.  I had found an interesting old run-down hotel with various secret passageways; it was a hangout for young people who lived around the neighborhood…so I thought we could play a little game of hide and seek.  I had her dolled up in her human-mask, and had her enter the hotel through the back.  The rules of the game were to try and find me, if she did, she would be rewarded with being able to pleasure me and satiate herself in any way she saw fit.  The place had architecture like on of Escher’s paintings, so I thought it would be fun for her to try and find me.  She of course complied happily.

 

Of course, at the time, I had no idea something bad was going to happen that night…something that told me I wasn’t going to sleep well for very much longer.

 

As it turned out, a young woman had wandered into the old mysteriously run-down hotel.

 

Apparently she was meeting with her boyfriend here.  But what she ended up finding was the demise of her life as she knew it.

 

Pussy Slave was wandering around the hall and searching for me, when she came across the woman quietly waiting for her boyfriend to show up.

 

“Hi there…come here often?” She remarked.

 

“Oh!  Puss—um Samantha is looking for her boyfriend John…have you seen him?”

 

“So are you a foreigner?  You don’t speak English very well….I’m afraid the only person I’ve seen around here is you.  What does your boyfriend John look like?”

 

She had a little trouble describing me, or so I happened to overhear…I had been quietly keeping tabs on her while she wandered the house.  She wasn’t very good at finding me…for obvious reasons.

 

I supposed the gig was up, so I turned the corner.  The woman was the first to see me, but seeing as I had literally come out of nowhere, she jumped, and staggered backwards into Pussy Slave.

 

The two of them fell down together, and by accident, the young woman tore Pussy Slave’s human mask off.

 

“What the….?” She picked up the mask with her left hand, but found her right hand to be immobile.

 

I wasn’t aware the mask had come off Pussy Slave’s face, but it was too late.

 

Point blank while staring at Pussy Slave’s face, she shrieked.

 

“Oh my god…what the hell IS she?”

 

I was literally begging no-one heard her voice in here.

 

“She’s…a Pussy Face…what the fuck?”

 

“Oh…boy…” I sighed…but of course I hadn’t realized something was going on between the two girls that would have a permanent effect on me.

 

“Uh-oh…Pussy Slave’s in trouble…”

 

When I heard that…I was just about ready to get shot by a cop then and there.

 

The young woman had fallen on top of Pussy Slave, but when she did so, her right hand somehow embedded itself into Pussy Slave’s hot and wet pussy-navel…when she pulled it out…she discovered that some black goop had stuck to her fingers.

 

“What the hell is this stuff?  Why won’t it come off me?”

 

She began asking more questions…questions I couldn’t really answer.

 

“What is this stuff?  Who is that…that freak?  Who are you?” She began getting hysterical as the black stuff began to wrap around her hand like a tight-fitted glove…the glove was identical to Pussy Slave’s arm.

 

I sighed in exasperation and defeat, “My name is John Reese and you’ve just entered…the Rubber Zone.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?  This isn’t funny!  I’m gonna go get the cops on you freaks!”

 

“I’m afraid it’s too late…” I shook my head.

 

“Too late?  For what?”

 

“I think about the only thing you’ll have enough time to do is say goodbye to your boyfriend…I’m sorry, miss.”

 

I leaned against a wall, all the fun being drained out of me…so now the Final Woman was a curse?  She was in a panic and made a bolt for the door, I had no choice but to let her through.

 

I watched from a nearby window as she entered into the street.  It had already stripped her of her jacket and halter-top…I could tell from the third floor that a pussy was forming in her navel…and I could tell she was beginning to slowly lose her mind as spasming entropic climaxes began to flood her brain.  The rubber was slowly trapping her in a life of sex and quite possibly bondage.  I wasn’t the type to really enjoy the bondage aspect of it…but this was Pussy Slave’s doing…it was her gift, her inheritance, and her curse.

 

“You son of a bitch!  What the hell are you doing to her!”

 

My back was slammed up against the wall as her boyfriend was on the verge of tears as the more she came the more she be-came.

 

“Hit me…I deserve it.” I said in a huff.

 

“You’re damn right I will!” The boyfriend hauled back to smash my face in, but before he could do so, his hand hit something hot, wet, and sticky…it gripped his hand like an iron vice and yet felt soft and oh so good.  He tugged at it.

 

“Pussy Slave won’t let you harm Master!” she fiercely squeaked.

 

“Huh…what the hell is that…?”

 

“Pussy Slave…please…let him go…”

 

She had caught his fist inside her breast-pussy, and was slowly dragging it further into herself…a defense mechanism I had taught her.  It was a way of binding the threat without harming them.

 

As he continued to fight her strong rubber breast, the young woman who had first arrived at this god-awful place practically hobbled in the room…she held the walls for guidance as her feet were now permanently molded in tip-toe.

 

“Brad, stop it!” She said calmly at first.

 

He kept pulling on Pussy Slave’s breast-mouth.

 

“Brad, stop!!” Her voice was filled with anger, fear, horror, and pleasure.

 

As we all could see, pussy was slowly developing a mind of its own, and she was losing herself as well.

 

Pussy Slave finally let the man’s hand go…but once again left a little black gooey gift for his trouble.

 

“Brad…it’s too late…I…I’m…”

 

“Please…tell me…is there any way to stop this…this thing?” He pleaded with me.

 

“Not that I know of…I….just don’t know.”  He wanted to kill me, but could see that he himself was going to be trapped in the stuff soon as well.

 

“Lisa…we’re going to be together…aren’t we?”  His voice pleaded with her, as if he and she were about to die.  Well that really wasn’t too far off…but really they were going to Rubber Hell.

 

“I suppose the least I can do is tell you the truth as in the amount of time you have left.” I said.

 

The four of us sat down as I related the story of the Wishing Stone which brought me bound forever with my beloved Pussy Slave.

 

By the time I was finished with my explanation, Lisa was on the verge of disappearing forever.

 

Lisa had this fixed helpless expression on her face, looking genuinely at the dark pools of Pussy Slave’s eyes…looking past the rubber…looking at the genuine loving woman within.

 

“So you….unnnh…” She was struggling not to climax mid-sentence, Brad held her shoulder gingerly, his right hand had already been consumed.

 

“So…are you truly happy?  Happy like this?” Lisa asked between orgasmic gasps.

 

“Pussy Slave and Samantha are always happy for Master…and soon you’ll be happy too!”

 

It wasn’t long until I now had two Pussy Slaves sitting side by side next to each other…the one formerly known as Lisa was only identified by the single diamond ring Brad had managed to place on her finger before she lost herself completely.

 

He was feeling a strange sensation as the latex goop invaded his insides, molding and shaping him.  Between semi-orgasmic alterations, he managed to tell me about his feelings toward Lisa.

 

“I was….urrrrn…planning on proposing to her tonight…hmmph…” His breathing slowly became labored as the black stuff began to possess his innards. 

 

I realized his voice was changing into that of a woman’s…and that he was growing breasts.

 

“You’ll take good care of…of Lisa, won’t you?” his voice hung on the word ‘you’, it slowly changed pitch until it sounded nearly identical to Pussy Slave’s erotic squeaky voice.

 

“Forgive me.” I said aloud.

 

He smiled as manly a smile as he could manage, before the black rubber swallowed him whole.

 

I now sat in a run-down hotel room with three completely identical, over-climaxed, rubberized, pussy women.  Their abilities and appearances were identical right down to the ballet-boot heels and squeaky rubber voice.

 

“I wonder…why didn’t I turn into a Pussy Slave…why didn’t the black stuff coat me when I came into contact with her pussy…?”

 

All three of them chirped, “Because you’re Pussy Slave’s Master!”

 

It was a little strange…the next few days were unwieldy for me.  The three rubber-girls all seemed to follow my commands identically.  I had spent the day reading up on Wishing Stones…hoping to find something related to what was going on here.

 

I hadn’t noticed before, but the wedding ring on Lisa’s finger had somehow disappeared.  The rubber apparently either rejected it or she took it off.  I had no idea.

 

The three girls performed the same “personal routine” I had taught the first Pussy Slave, Martial Arts training included.  I never once told them precisely how to do it.  They never once spoke between one another, and at the same time they never had difficulty performing it…in fact they performed it in perfect sync the very first time.

 

They were highly supple, sexy, and flexible.  Their senses were constantly stimulated, and from time to time I could hear the slurping of their pussy innards as they kept cumming and drinking, cumming and drinking, trying to avoid spilling any on the floor based on rules I had established several weeks prior.  I never even told the other two about the rules…they simply absorbed whatever it was inside Pussy Slave’s head and worked it all out on their own.

 

One day I had gotten fed up with the nonsense.

 

“Master demands to know!  Which one of you is the real Pussy Slave!?”

 

Three voices answered back simultaneously, “Pussy Slave is always real Pussy Slave to Master, no matter how many of Pussy Slave there is.”

 

I slapped my forehead in frustration.  This was getting ridiculous.  I decided to test them.

 

First I asked them what their name was before becoming Pussy Slave…

 

“Pussy Slave was always Pussy Slave…Samantha told her so.”

 

Well that didn’t work out so well…so I thought.  Apparently Samantha/Pussy Slave was sharing her consciousness between 3 rubber bodies.

 

“Oh God I need help…” I sighed in exasperation.

 

“Pussy Slave can find help!  Pussy Slave can make others become Pussy Slave for Master!”

 

At this I nearly jumped off my chair.  What?  More of you?  Wasn’t three enough?

 

One of the Pussy Slaves stepped forward with an explanation of some kind.

 

“Pussy Slave can become anything and everything for Master…just like The Final Woman.”

 

It suddenly dawned on me where she was getting all these ideas for The Final Woman…my old sketches!

 

I told them to stay there, and despite some minor pussy moaning, they remained.

 

I tore through the closet that stored all the pictures I had drawn for my final project.  I looked upon each and every work of art.  Obviously I ended up with a good grade as a result.  But the thing that baffled me was how she was getting her ideas to become the Final Woman.

 

As I paged through each image, I thought about what Pussy Slave looked like in appearance, based on the wish.

 

It was then that I saw what had happened.  I gaped at it, distraught.

 

It was the picture of the Final Woman making contact with yet another woman and transforming her into an exact duplicate of herself.  Yet another picture of Pussy Slave’s Ideal I had drawn.  In my over-sexed dementia, I created a picture of Pussy Slave giving birth to herself.  Every single rubber self was a part of who she was…there was no escaping it.  I had supposed that the only reason I was still human at all was because I deemed myself her Master beforehand.

 

“Master, you need more help, so Pussy Slave will make more help!” I heard the triplets orgasmically chirp.  “Pussy Slave will make the Final Woman really come true.”

 

As I heard this, a wave of panic ran across my mind.  Tearing through the kitchen, I found the three of them in a circle, group-fucking.

 

All three of them had pleasured red pussy smiles on black rubber faces rounding and churning with cum juices.  Instead of the usual white cum that normally came out and made a mess of the house…rubbery black cum came out in large gobs.  The pussies in each woman’s rubber body gobbled down the rubbery goo just as it was ejaculated.

 

I watched in transfixed fascination as they began to “spawn”.  In moaning spasms, each woman stood to full corseted height.  Right before my eyes their rubber corsets liquefied and turned into round swelling forms.

 

The swelling of pregnancy filled them to bursting as the breasts of each began to swell in orgasmic labor.  The three of them sat down upon the floor, spurting black cum from every sex pore on their bodies….the cum would proceed to flood the floor, but parts of their pussies would simply suck it back up again, ready for the next pregnancy.

 

Their constant state of climax could not be kept hidden anymore, and their pussy-mouths, pussy-breasts, pussy-navels, pussy-anuses, and pussy-cocks screamed in simultaneous beg for release.

 

The rubber pussy-cocks open their mouths into wide Os plunging back and forth like some kind of distorted accordions.  The mouths of these creatures got so wide they were on the verge of turning inside-out.  But right on time…a black rubber face took shape inside the mouth.  It began to squeeze and spasm…some twisted hybrid of climaxing and having labor.

 

The black face turned into so much jelly and poured out in long gooey piles.  It proceeded to sound its orgasmic birth cries and morphed into yet another trio of identical pussy-beset clones of Pussy Slave.

 

The six Pussy Slaves left the house in unison and began a procession down the street.  It was all I could do to keep up with their identical athletic figures.

 

“Master wants the Final Woman, so Pussy Slave must make then all for Master!” the six of them continued to produce the black rubbery cum in a twisted mass orgy.

 

First it was six…then twelve…then twenty four of them littered the street.  Some onlookers were either shocked and appalled at the number of them or were in particular attracted to this trange occurrence.  A few rather horny men went to join these beautifully clad ladies in the mass open-air orgy only to find that they too would become one of the clones.

 

“It’s too late,” I surmised…the women would not stop reproducing themselves until the population, save myself, was merged with the essence of Pussy Slave.

 

The nearby liquor bar was empty now…as the Pussy Slaves had taken every patron out of it and converted them.  Those who remained screamed in horror or pleasure as their transformations took hold.

 

I sat behind the bar, and perhaps for the first time in all my life, poured myself the heaviest drink I could think of.

 

“This is gonna be a long night…” I muttered to myself.

 

“Where’s Viagra when you need it?”

 

I must’ve passed out at the bar, because when I awoke…I found myself back in my bedroom….her bedroom.

 

The room was dark, but the scent of orgied rubber in the room instantly told me I wasn’t alone.  Familiar squeaking and orgasmic hisses filled the room.

 

My penis was terrified.

 

A single giggly voice pierced the silence.

 

“Master wanted this…and now the last one has joined with Pussy Slave…to become one… to become the Final Woman...”

 

I think I must’ve been drunk because I had the courage to turn the light on.

 

As I reached, a rubbery hand caressed my hand and proceeded to turn the light on for me.

 

Just as my ears had determined, the room was filled with rubbery sex toys.

 

“Pussy Slave waited just for Master…just so that Master can watch the fun….just like last time!”

 

I was inebriated so it was hardly in my capacity to protest.  “Damn you Jack Daniels!” I muttered.

 

As my eyes began to clear, I saw that one by one, the rubber beauties began to stroke and caress one another…but this time, all but one of each of them remained…the rubbery goddess swelled as the lipped pussy-breasts inhaled what remained of her counterparts.  More of the duplicates entered the room, more caressing and orgasmic bliss, more melting, and more absorbing of their liquid rubber remains.

 

It continued for hours as the women shuffled in droves and merged with a single latex skinned pussy-fied woman.  I think I had fallen asleep because just watching them orgy one another felt the same as counting sheep.

 

When I awoke again…my hangover had somewhat faded…the room was quiet, and the sun was shining brightly through the window.  I was in my clothes from the day prior, and so without thinking much about it, I began to walk through the house that had once been Samantha Parson’s home.

 

The house was quiet…more quiet than it had ever been, not a single sound echoed across the wood floorboards or the padded rugs.  I found myself stepping outside into the sunlight just to warm up and stretch as I felt I had slept for hours…I had no recollection of what time it was.

 

The streets were disturbingly quiet and empty, no cars roamed, no people milled about.  The sounds that remind were of chirping birds and the wind blowing through the trees.

 

“I see you’re awake, lover.” The voice was all too familiar; however it seemed, changed, yet and most remarkably…normal.

 

I turned to see a young woman wearing a t-shirt and gardening overalls and holding a small metal shovel for planting.

 

“Samantha?” I asked, quite confused and unsure.

 

“You say that as if you forgot who I was…” she pouted, “I never forgot about you…”  She proceeded to kneel down in the small garden in the back yard of the house.

 

“Where…where is everyone…?”  I managed to gather up my courage and ask.

 

“You should know where they are…they’re inside me.” She smiled gently…wiping the sweat from her brow as the sun was hot.

 

“I don’t understand….” I slowly walked towards her.

 

She stood up and walked over to the porch and grabbed a sip of some sport water to cool her.  Turning, she had a wry smile on her face.

 

“I told you before…I’m the Final Woman…the only Woman you’ll ever need.”

 

At the phrase “Final Woman”, I felt a lump in my throat.

 

“But…”

 

“But what?  This is what you wanted isn’t it?  I mean, sure, it wasn’t exactly what I had planned at the beginning, but what the hell?  I’m up for sex any day.”

 

I swallowed, but the lump stayed in my throat…it felt very sharp and protruding…very itchy as well.  I had trouble responding to her and it felt really difficult to speak.

 

“So?  Now that we’re here, might as well go and do it, right?  I mean, sure now that I got used to the whole Master-Slave relationship it won’t seem like so much fun without that part.  But something tells me you haven’t had much experience with women…how about I take you on the REAL roller coaster ride.”

 

I gulped, “Uh…” The lump was continuing to be progressively painful.

 

I scratched at the lump in my throat.  I felt like I needed to cough, but something was lodged there.

 

“You really ought to get that checked out…it looks like it could be infectious.” She smirked.

 

I felt like I was about to choke.

 

“Why don’t you go in the house and get that looked at…I’ll freshen up.” She smiled again, the most flawless perfect smile I’d ever seen.

 

Almost running to the bathroom, I nearly tripped over what appeared to be thick rubber panties.  Something about them looked extremely familiar.

 

When I made it to the bathroom, I felt like I was on the verge of suffocation.  I coughed long and hard, till it hurt my insides.

 

Looking in the mirror I saw what was causing it.

 

Glancing at my Adam’s apple, I noted an unwanted shiny object had lodged itself at the base of my Larynx.  It wasn’t quite inside or quite outside my throat.

 

The Wishing Stone had somehow become a part of me.  The more I scratched at it, the more it seemed to fade into the back of my throat.

 

“So that’s what happened to Grandmother’s heirloom…” A sarcastic smile and voice appeared behind me.

 

My throat was nearly completely sealed off with exception to a small shaft of air flowing up through my nasal passages, forcing me to breathe labored through my nose.

 

“So when it finally came time to make the wish of your dreams, you choked!  Ha!”  She chuckled in laughter.

 

I scowled at her humor, but my voice was frozen in the crystal of the stone.

 

“You figured out how to use the stone before I could…that was certainly the most brilliant thing you’ve ever done…but you were selfish and turned me into your slave!”

 

My eyes were most definitely wide with terror.

 

“At first I wanted to forgive you for turning me into that orgasmic mess…but when I tried to get you to wish me back, you didn’t even bother…instead you didn’t do anything…you choked!”

 

I tried to snort out “I’m sorry.” But it didn’t sound like anything was going to be coherent for me anytime soon.

 

“So I had “Pussy Slave” take matters into her own hands and become not only the woman of your dreams, but quite literally the best woman ever…a woman so powerful she could break out of the Hypnotic spell of that stone!”

 

I had no idea Samantha was plotting behind my back…it didn’t even cross my mind!

 

“You were having such a great time with my body, I let you enjoy yourself for a while…well…I suppose I enjoyed it myself a bit too…”

 

My head started to feel light-headed…I was going to asphyxiate on the stone!

 

“Well…I’m still mad at you…for taking advantage of me like that…but at least you gave me a way out with your artwork…but…anyways, if you promise you won’t ever do that stuff again, I’ll make you feel allllll better.” She said “all better” in an extremely sexy voice…making it hard to concentrate on what I was supposed to say, think, or do.  I nodded as quick an apology as I could muster.

 

My brain was slowly washing away…I lost all control of my thoughts, I felt like I was about to die.

 

Her hand began to glow an extremely bright light as she drew the Wishing Stone out of my throat with her mysterious powers.

 

I felt myself gasping for breath as blood and oxygen flushed back into my thinking process.

 

“So…are you sorry?”  Her eyes were deep blue and I couldn’t see the end of them.

 

“I’m so, so, so, very, very, very sorry!” I had said to her, gasping for breath.

 

“You know…I didn’t lie when I said I had fallen for you.  You did save my life when you put up that Ad for ‘the perfect model’.”

 

“And I fell for you too…so much so it lead me to do what I did…and I really am sorry…I was just afraid that once my art project was finished…I’d never see you again.”

 

“Well…I suppose in the end it’s all this crazy little Wishing Stone’s fault!” She smiled.  “But then again, if it weren’t for the stone…I don’t think I would’ve gotten to know you so intimately.”

 

“So…what do we do now?” I asked, as honestly, I had no clue.

 

“Truth be told, I am the Final Woman,” she smirked, “I’m the equivalent of a Goddess…so I suppose we can do whatever we want…”

 

“But what about all those people…I mean…”  Of course it bothered me to no end about what happened to all the people that had slowly faded away into Pussy Slave.

 

“Oh, them…?” She smiled with an all-knowing smile, “Like I said before, they’re all inside me…they have no idea, aside from a little latex weirdness in their lives, that anything is any different.”

 

“I don’t think I follow you, Sam…” I scratched my head in confusion.

 

“Oh, come on!  You never heard of Gaia…Mother Earth!?”

 

“You mean…!!!”

 

Indeed she had become the Final Woman…who apparently was Mother Earth, inside her a billion or more people went on with their daily lives…some were going for walks in the park, others were sunning themselves on the beach…still others were taking a drive around town or going fishing.

 

“So if you’ve become Gaia…then where the hell am I?”

 

“You’re at my house, silly!”

 

“Oh!  Right….I…uh…knew that!” I smiled.

 

“Listen…I can’t stay in this physical goddess body forever or I’m gonna burst…we gotta do it soon so that everything goes back to normal or I’ll go crazy!”

 

The horny look in her eye crossed mine and probably doubled my own lust.

 

“You remember when you did that 7^th Level Penetration?”

 

“Yeah…?” I said…albeit my memory was a bit foggy at the time.  I had been on an adrenalin rush at the time.

 

“Well you wanna go for the full Sephiroticum?” she smiled intensely.

 

“The Sephir—what—i-cum?” I asked…rather confused.

 

“All you need to know is that its 10 ways to fuck a Goddess simultaneously and that it has to do with ‘cum’.  You’ll figure it out.”

 

“Okay, I’m up for it…” I said, grinning ear to ear.

 

We strode into her bedroom, which seemed to be clean and bright and smelled of the most fragrant of flowers.

 

“Wow…that certainly smells different…”

 

“Didn’t you know?  When Gaia starts cumming she smells like flowers.” she smiled innocently.

 

I couldn’t help it…I embraced her lithe body with so much of my energy…in fact I felt as though my body could go on for eternity.  Her body seemed to transform into the most brilliant of lights.  I now had the Final Woman in my arms…and I would never let her go.

 

The light shone so bright and warm around my body it tingled with so much of an energy charge, I felt myself slowly open…almost like a flower in the sunlight.

 

Her body showered me with so much warmth and light. The fragrance of flowers pungent and sweet smelling, flooding the room.  In an instant I mustered all my strength and focused it on the very essence of her light.

 

Let’s just say I rocked her World.

 

 

Epilogue:

 

It’s been about 3 months since that whole debacle with the Wishing Stone and I couldn’t be happier.  Samantha and I are mortals, married, making-out, and having the greatest sex of our lives.  We recently moved into a new house for just the two of us.  Even though Sam claims she swore off the stuff, we still get into a little rubber and snuggle now and then.  I keep telling her she really should get involved in her family’s business as it really is a good financial investment…but she keeps reminding me that being a ‘Rubber Goddess’ once in her lifetime was good enough.

 

Not long ago we gave a house-warming party for our neighbor newlyweds Brad and Lisa…I sent them some rubber outfits as a honeymoon present.

 

 There are times when I think about that Wishing Stone…and it’s tempting to sometimes use it again.

 

But then I keep remembering about how all my wishes were granted.

 

I still draw my ‘perfect model’ now and again, but mostly the pictures feature flowers and other more romantic things.  I’m a professional artist now, so working with models has become something of a profession for me.

 

But nobody tops my ‘Rubber Goddess’.

Story Synopsis:
        John's relationship with Samantha has skyrocketed since the "incident", but something is missing...

 

Story codes:
        M/f, exhibition, modification, size, voyeurism, B/D, feet, hair, latex, slavery, bondage, ScFi, romantic, consensual, reluctant, Serious

 

 

 

 

The Wishing Stone Part 3:

Rebirth

By Darqside

 

I missed it.

 

I missed all of it.

 

It started harmlessly enough.  Samantha and I have been very happy in Marriage for the past 3 years, we still joked about it now and again.  She even teased me a little for still letting that ‘little stone’ bother me.  She’d even taken to ‘hiding the mirrors’ and using her com pack more often.  I didn’t think much of it at the time.

 

It was during an afternoon when we were deciding to go to a movie…one of those very formal affairs.  I was about to put on my darkest grey suit, just for the occasion.

 

She had to wear it, didn’t she?  She had to drive me over the edge.

 

The black and red rubber Furisode kimono…complete with wooden sandals and black hairpins for formal attire.

 

Her vision of beauty almost knocked me over…I felt myself begin to lose my composure completely.  Of course I hid it very well but…the smell of rubber latex and the combination of black and red entranced me.

 

As if sensing something was wrong, she retorted, “Cool your jets, John, we haven’t even left the door yet.”

 

The night went on uneventful aside from the movie, I watched, but I could feel a small surge at the pit of my stomach.  I was just so distracted I couldn’t enjoy myself.

 

That night we kissed before heading off to bed and I found myself caressing her hair and ears ever so gently.

 

“Well this is new…” she commented.  “Usually you’re so dead set on getting directly into me you don’t do subtle stuff like this.”

 

“I’m not sure why…it just felt natural somehow…” without much thought on it, we turned out the light and went to sleep.

 

But I couldn’t sleep.  That swell in my abdomen got bigger, and the more I tried to ignore it, the more it burned inside me.

 

I must’ve been tossing and turning because my wife touched my shoulder, “Honey, what’s the matter…you’ve been fidgety all since this afternoon, what’s got you all so worked up?”

 

“It’s that damn rubber…” I mumbled.  “It’s driving me crazy…”

 

“What?  That Japanese Ensemble I wore?  If it turned you on so much why didn’t you say so?”

 

“It’s…it’s not that, Sam…” I calmly turned the light back on…but I could feel beads of sweat hanging in large drops across my forehead.  This thing, whatever it was, was taking hold and not letting go.

 

“You’re thinking about that stupid Wishing Stone again, aren’t you?” Her voice turned angry.  “I hid that thing from you so that you wouldn’t be tempted by it, remember?”

 

“I know, I know!” I sighed, “I can’t help it…it’s been 3 years since then, but it’s just so hard to get it out of my mind…”

 

“Honey…” her voice turned soft again, “You know I love you…and you know because of that I’ll do anything to make you happy…you got your wish!” she hugged me and caressed my face to calm me down.  She always did that whenever I got excited over something…and it always seemed to work…except for now.

 

“Dear…I love you with all my heart…but something is…wrong with me.” I had said finally.  “I feel like I’m addicted to it somehow…like this won’t let me go…”

 

I got up out of bed abruptly and went into the bathroom…perhaps I could wash my face and hands of the thoughts buried deep in my mind.

 

It caught me by surprise in realization that there was no mirror in the bathroom.  For two whole years I never thought about it…not even once.  I decided to do what I always did whenever something was bothering me…I started shaving.

 

Applying the shaving cream liberally, I picked up my razor to find my right hand was shaking.  I felt so nervous about it I put the razor down and stared at the sink.

 

After a while I started shaving again…but before I was a few strokes in, the razor broke and fell on the floor with a plop.

 

I bent down to pick it up when something tugged at me…I didn’t know what it was, but the cabinet beneath the sink seemed to be drawing me closer.

 

The bathroom door was shut, so Samantha had most likely assumed I was in here taking care of my business.  As some kind of impulsive gesture, I flushed the toilet…so as to give her the impression I was doing something other than what I was currently doing…snooping.

 

Over the noise of the flush, I quickly slid the cabinet open.  Lots of cleaning chemicals were down there, old boxes of soap, and backup rolls of toilet paper.  Something was down there…calling me…begging me.

 

I must’ve touched some sort of panel, because a block of cement with a cover on it rose up from the floor.  The size of the little cement box, plus the elaborate means of its being hidden, I had no doubt in my mind what it was.

 

Quickly I pressed the cement box down in its hidden compartment in the cabinet and slid the door shut.  Rinsed my face…shaving just didn’t seem to do it for me anymore, and went to bed, despite my nervousness.

 

I wasn’t getting any sleep naturally any time soon, so I went to the kitchen where we store our medicines and got two sleeping pills.  Thankfully they worked as I hit my pillow with confidence in my sleep.  I could still feel my right hand nervously twitch…and I could still feel it…deep inside me…festering.

 

The next day I had to meet two clients for an art exhibition we were collaborating on. So my mind was able to clear itself for the most part, of the events from the previous day.

 

We were going over several of my pieces, both old and new, trying to determine which ones would go up in the gallery and where.

 

“John…you have to tell me where you got the inspiration to draw these exquisite Final Woman pieces…”

 

“Excuse me?” The words jerked me out of my previous thoughts.

 

“You know…that old college project you did, The Final Woman.  Those drawings are some of the best I’ve seen…I just want to know what inspired you.”

 

“My wife actually…” I responded.

 

“She must be quite the looker…you’re a pretty lucky guy.” My client smiled and then started sorting more of my other artwork for display.

 

“I suppose I am…” My mind drifted off to how we had first met, and how things spiraled out of control for at least a year.  My thoughts drifted towards the object that could grant my heart’s desire… It was calling me again.  And this time, I knew where it was.

 

“John…what are you doing in the kitchen?”  My wife called, she definitely had an irresistible sexy voice.  I loved her so much it hurt.

 

I was running a blender on puree…the fluid grinded until it turned light pink.

 

“Making a fruit smoothie…you want one?”  I calmly asked.

 

Every once in a while I made various health drinks.  Usually it was so that I stayed in shape, but sometimes I mixed various ingredients as either an Aphrodisiac or just for something fun to drink, sometimes both.

 

“Mmm…looks good, sure!”

 

I poured the pink contents into a glass and handed it to her.  “Hope you like it…It’s a strawberry flavor mixed with some other fruits and healthy stuff.”

 

Pursing her lips together she drank the contents, first sipping, and then downing it.

 

“Wow…that stuff is good!  You’re pretty good at making smoothies!” she smiled her perfect smile that I adored.

 

“Glad you like it…” I said.

 

Her eyes began to flutter, “For…some reason…I’m getting....sleepy.”

 

I could tell she was getting light-headed.  She began to teeter for a few moments, and then fell backwards…I caught her soft body before she hit the ground.

 

“Soon…my eternal love.” I smiled.

 

The contents of the smoothie contained a dose of fast-acting sleeping pills, combined with a very effective Aphrodisiac I had concocted…it would not only bring her into the mood, but also loosen up her muscles from being able to function for a while.

 

I had much to do in the next few hours.  So I set about preparing.

 

When she finally awoke several hours later, she was lying in our bed, stripped naked, with leather straps tied firmly to her arms, legs, hips, and waist.  She was groggy at first but when her eyes opened, I greeted her with a smile.

 

“Hello my dear.” I said, my voice was brimming with excitement.

 

“What…the…what’s going on…?”

 

“My beloved Wife…” I crooned, “Before you say anything, know that I will always love you, and will always take care of you, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, so long as we both shall live…which at this point will be for quite a long time.”

 

“What kind of…sick joke is this, John?  What are you doing?”

 

“It’s your own fault you know…” I began, “You insisted on wearing that unforgettable kimono and insisted on keeping all those beautiful rubber things in the house.  Oh certainly you never wore them much, but you always kept them…always reminded me…always tortured me.”

 

I stepped out for a moment.  I wheeled it in for her to see and to treasure.

 

“My mother’s mirror?  You…you got it from the attic?” her eyes were wide, but her motor skills were still betraying her.

 

“Ah…I see you remember…this is what made it all possible.  It is the key to unlocking my greatest and most profound desire.  That desire is inside of you…sleeping…it fell asleep when you broke free…but now I’m going to wake it up again…and this time…”

 

I smiled devilishly, “This time…you’ll sleep forever.”

 

Her eyes widened in terror…she started struggling against her bonds but she was securely placed on the bed.

 

“Those bed straps bring such sweet memories, don’t you think?” I grinned.

 

“Why are you doing this?” She cried, “You know I love you…you know I’d make you happy!”

 

I walked up to her flawless body, “It’s precisely why I’m doing this…you do love me…and you will make me happy…eternally happy.”

 

She continued to strain, but her body was too weak from the pills.  Teasing her a little, I touched the outline of her pussy…it was aroused, and I could tell that deep down she was enjoying this.  The Aphrodisiac was taking effect, to be sure.

 

“D-damn you!” she screamed, “You’ll never…get away…with this!”  Her strains were futile through and through.  All she could do was curse at me.

 

I stood quietly over by the mirror as she struggled…sat down at the bed between her legs, and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

 

“There’s an old saying my dear…” I said, “When it comes to sex, make sure you’re prepared with a rubber…and also…when you’re married, there are no rules regarding sex!”

 

In my pocket, I pulled out the Wishing Stone…its soft beautiful glimmer reminded me of my Wife’s wet pussy.  I nearly choked on it once before because I was unwilling to make my wishes…but not this time.

 

The truth of the matter was that I had many wishes to make.  And this time I had come prepared.

 

“Wishing Stone,” I addressed it, “I wish I and my beloved Wife were eternally at the peak of our sexual youth.”

 

A single white flash, quick, precise, and granted.

 

I felt my pulse quicken.  My heart was racing.  My wife moaned softly on the bed.

 

Blemishes, sunspots, even old cuts, scars, and bruises faded away.  My wish was granted… I was of course the same, peak physical condition I had been when I was in College…and nothing could stop me…but I was far from finished.  I glanced in the mirror, my beloved wife looked the tender age of 18, and her figure had shrunk considerably as she had gotten younger.  She was beginning to get wet as her libido kicked in, but it wasn’t quite there yet. 

 

With all my heart I looked at the reflection in the mirror and prayed to the stone.

 

“I wish that my beloved Wife would, now and forevermore, become eternally my lusting and climaxing rubbery bride and goddess-slave for me and only me…eternally the Final Woman …eternally unmerged and un-replicated…eternally dedicated to sex with me…my own…my only…Pussy Slave!”

 

The stone flashed once again, and almost like the firing of a gun…my Wife’s body convulsed with ecstasy.

 

“No!!!” She screamed…but her consciousness and will were fading to nothing.

 

I watched in pure rapture as her mind was slowly taken from her…from sanity to insanity…from dedicated love…to eternal lust.

 

I proceeded to insert several clauses into my Wish…first that Samantha’s will be gone forever, even in her subconscious…second that Pussy Slave would be in total control of her body…but yet under my total control…third that Pussy Slave could not make Wishes with the Wishing Stone…fourth that Pussy Slave, even though in her Final Woman Rubber Goddess form, could never merge with anyone or duplicate herself and try to overcome the Wishing Stone’s power like she had in the past.

 

The stone responded by flashing rapidly for each clause I inserted…burning them into the woman formerly known and forever not known as Samantha Reese’s body, my beloved eternal slave/wife/rubber-goddess.  Each clause seemed to hit her body with such orgasmic force she jerked violently on the bed, her hair spilling out in every direction.

 

I watched with excited bliss as her body began to change once more.  The black rubbery cum had returned and was pumping out of her body at full force.  Her trembling and convulsing shook the bed with deep heavy thumps.

 

So as to enjoy the spectacle further, I released her from the straps…and she instantly curled up into a fetal position…as if being reborn.

 

The rubber fluid exited her own natural pussy in a flood…climbing up her abdomen and into the crack of her anus.  The stuff was very quick to envelop her, much faster than the previous transformation.  Perhaps it had something to do with me stripping her of her will.

 

The black substance slithered its way across her legs and down her ankles, merging in between her toes…the rubber cum began to gather there…forming the flawlessly seamless tip-toe rubber ballet-boot 10-inch heels I had come to love so well…

 

Something was different however…as the sides of the heel now had the added feature of the no-slip grip substance I had enjoyed from her other lovely obsidian limbs. I could grab her ankles without much effort and hold her in an upside-down position for as long as I wanted.  Also the 10-inch en point heels appeared to twitch, stretch, and change in thickness…as though I could make my beloved rubber goddess as tall as I wanted while still retaining her elegant and almost painful sense of balance.  The black rubber heels and toes of each ballet-boot clicked together rhythmically, like the bill of a duck as she orgasmically convulsed through her transformation.

 

She was becoming more and more enjoyable every minute.  The black cum slid quickly into her anus and began to merge her cheeks once again…the black shiny rubber ball ass I had become so enraptured with previously had returned.  I patted it with a glee as it shined and took conformed shape softly and easily when I pressed into it.

 

The rubber material around her leggings quickly began to lock her knees to a solid stance once again, forcing her to eternally bend at her round bubble-butt hips or do the splits.  I nearly came right there just watching the transformation.

 

Her crotch had virtually disappeared in the black flow, and so I found myself watching as the torrent of dark cum flood her body.  The cum gathered up around her navel in thick waves, then proceeded past it and up the back, quickly climbing upward, past the breasts, around the shoulders and up the neck to stop there.

 

The corset formed itself quickly; as her breath was squeezed out of her…it had the same familiar no-slip grip surface on the sides and back all the way down to the hips and length of the legs and heels.  The smooth yet graspable surface created tight rings around the enlarged and protruding breasts.  I watched in absolute pleasure as her waist and hips tightened and hardened to a thick black rubber, this time it was her hips that had a slight hardness to them which came in strips of hardness in the front, but flexibility at the sides, forcing her not only to bend with the pelvis, but also acted like a natural hobble.  The thick rubber strips kept her thighs from being able to bend upward no more than 10 inches without some effort and resistance.  Meaning that if she wanted to sit down, as impossible as that was…she would have to forcibly bend her knees and stretch the rubber of that incredibly sexy bulbous ass, it was either that or she did the splits…which the rubber provided no resistance for…

 

In fact…as it appeared, the rubber appeared to have some kind of kink in it near the crotch…I hardly knew what it was for…but out of curiosity I spread her legs apart.  A gentle pop was heard and the kinks in the crotch was gone…I applied pressure on her legs to close…but they were stuck in an extremely durable V-shape.  The possibility for her being unable to close her legs made for an incredible discovery for me. 

 

The leg-locks were two-fold: one found along the crotch near the top of the legs…and a kink on both sides of the hips.  Pressing the hips together locked her legs and hips in an unmovable parallel position.  The only way possible for the V-lock, and the Straight-Lock to be unlocked was found in the form of two small square switches at the base of her left pointed ballet-boot heel…because of how long her legs were in relation to her arms, and the unwieldy unbending at her knees, it would be nigh impossible for her to reach the switches by herself. She wouldn’t be able to even reach the bottom of her heels if she twisted them behind her head as her legs were that unbendable.  Also, near as I could tell, the V-shaped lock could only allow her to further do the splits; it provided absolute resistance the other way.

 

I continued to watch as her rubber body took shape and form…the tendrils wrapped themselves gingerly around her arms and hands…forming the same familiar rubber gauntlets I had seen before…the grip-strips…as I had started calling them formed themselves on the backs of her hands, forearm, and the sides of her arms…meaning easy grasping of her arms…

 

Yet another set of kinks formed, this time in her arms.  I discovered that bending her arms up over her shoulder just a bit beyond 45 degree angles resulted in locking the shoulder, upper arm, elbow, forearm, and wrist into straight unmovable tubes…only the fingers were still able to move.   Basically if she was to pull her arms or have them be pulled up over her head, the mechanism would pop and lock her arms in an unforgiving rubber tube.  The tube would force them to fall at her sides, not able to move.

 

I checked once again and sure enough, the mechanism could only be released by her impossibly unreachable ballet-boot heels.  This, combined with the other barely-visible mechanisms meant that she could instantly be transformed into a paralyzed living rubber doll at any time, released only by me.  I looked at the heels and counted that there were 7 panels designed for 7 different locks on her body.  Apparently I had only discovered the first two…I could only anticipate what would occur with the remaining five.

 

By this time the sexiest rubber fingernails had finished forming on her hands, the color still a deep solid black.  The color would have to wait however, as her neck’s rubber had just finished forming and was slowly working its way across the back of her skull…resurrecting the long black rubbery hair I had missed for so long.

 

The hair extended once again all the way down to her sexy butt, and was still as rubber-band stretchy as ever.  I could tell it was longer than before, particularly in the middle. The rubber goddess hair had a slight swish to it…meaning her hair would swish between her legs whenever she walked anywhere.  The rubber hair was the only hair on her body, meaning no eyebrows, pussy hair, or other parts…just flawless shiny black rubber to be pulled forever.  Even the hair on her own head had a high sexy rubber crest on it, meaning its natural shape was that of a thick black-haired bombshell, removing the need to sweep the hair from her face, better than any hairspray.

 

By then her face was encased in the rubbery goodness for a time, and during which time I decided to find out what the remaining five panels were for.  I discovered that one of the locks wasn’t really a lock per se…but that it created small loose curls near the bottom of her hair, making it all the easier to grab and tug.  Pressing the panel again straightened the hair out perfectly again.

 

The hair itself was once again flawless.  It would never shed, split, or get tangled by itself.  The hair was obviously alive and obviously an object solely for my enjoyment.

 

One by one, parts of her body popped in and out…faces formed where they were originally, and the all-too-famous Pussy-Cock had returned.  Her fingernails turned a deep red rubber color, which triggered the change of the red rubbery lips on her ears, mouth, breasts, navel, anus, and her pussy-cock itself.

 

She looked perfect.  And by the time she had fully formed, her black eyes all around her body fluttered open, followed by the familiar squeaking inhale of air inside each pussy-mouth and pussy-nose.

 

My goddess had returned, and she came back better than ever.

 

“…M-…Master?” Her voice squeaked with pleasure.  She was a walking creature of pleasure…and her body was indeed a sight to behold.

 

Quickly and quietly she slid herself off the bed and stood.  I moved aside as she slowly became alluringly entranced with her new form in the mirror.

 

“Master…Pussy Slave is free again…” she said with an air of finality.

 

“Yes, you are my eternal Pussy Slave, now and forever.” I smiled.

 

“…Samantha…she is gone now, Master…but she told me to tell you that she will always love you…and she is sorry she wasn’t good enough to make you happy.”

 

“Yes…well she can rest in peace knowing her body will always make me happy, because now, Pussy Slave, it is your body…and you will forever enjoy it, and forever enjoy me.”

 

“Oh Master!” In an orgasmic cry Pussy Slave ran to my arms and she hugged me.

 

Unbeknownst to her during the embrace however…I had lifted her arms ever so slightly to hear the familiar popping sound underneath her arm.  She would not notice until her arms dropped down and locked into place.  I proceeded to also squeeze her hips while pulling her hair.  The pop locked her legs in place like a statuette and her hair reeled back as she wailed in a rocket of blissful squeaking orgasm…the thousands of tiny pussy follicles had returned to her scalp…each and every one a blast of pleasure.

 

I released her from her desperate embrace to let her discover that she was no longer able to move.

 

“Master?” she wiggled in vain as her arms and legs, not to mention hips were unmovable.  I picked her up by the waist with its long sturdy grip-pads.  I discovered that despite the thick latex rubber encasing her body…she was incredibly light.

 

I placed her down on her back, her bubbly buttocks forcing her pelvis to jut upward.  She could feel the pressure on her anal pussy and wanted release from her newfound locked position.

 

“Let’s see…” I assessed, “Now that you’re new and improved, I want to find out exactly what all seven of these switches are for on your heels.  She playfully tried to kick away from me, but her feet couldn’t move a single inch as a result of the hip-lock.

 

“Pussy Slave can’t move, Master.  What is wrong with Pussy Slave?” she struggled…her snake-like Pussy-Cock was swaying about, trying to find both a way out and release of a different kind.

 

“Nothing is wrong my beloved Wife.”  I responded, “The locks are there just for you…and just for me.”

 

Surmising the first switch to release her legs from the V-shape, and the second to release her arms from the paralyzing tubes…the third was of course the release mechanism for her hip-lock which immobilized her legs from their parallel prison.  The fourth panel transformed her hair from straight to curly in mere moments…this apparently seemed to have an additional climaxing effect on her hair as she moaned with delight.

 

I proceeded with the fifth panel…and to my surprise and delight, her pussy-cock instantly became tall and erect, its lips opening with a wide familiar O.  Pussy Slave shuddered as the erection was forced upon her, and just as before, a small popping mechanism locked the Pussy-Cock with its long grip-pads along the sides and incredulously stretched clitoris into a tall 4 foot long pillar of pussy-cock goodness. 

 

I was so tempted to fuck her then, but felt I should concern myself with the task at hand.  My hand pressed the sixth panel on her heel, but nothing happened.

 

I was a little disappointed, but curiosity got the better off me.  Pressing the release mechanism on her legs, I allowed her to squirm a bit, frozen cock and arms and all.

 

I had an idea that would make this much more exciting.

 

“Pussy Slave…” I smiled deeply, “Would you like to come on top of me?”

 

She of course nodded eagerly.  I told her to hold her legs still, released her arms again from their locking mechanism.  I proceeded to lie down on the bed next to her.

 

She hungrily wanted to get on top of my exposed penis so much she was virtually delirious.  But since she had no means of bending at the knees without much effort, she was once again forced to do the splits, however…something was different this time.

 

Pop!

 

“Huh?” she said as she came down on top of me.

 

I smiled and laughed.  She was unable to reach my penis as her own pussy-cock was paralyzed in permanent erection…and she had yet another problem on her hands: her legs were stuck in the V-shaped lock!

 

She tried to stand but found her en point heels weren’t made for balancing at odd angles.  And so with a squeaky sigh, she plopped down on her round rubber pussy-anus.

 

Only her arms were free, but this didn’t help much as the corset kept her on her back, but the V-shape lock kicked up her legs in the air at a slight angle kept her off balance, exposed, and vulnerable.  She tried pushing herself back up into at least a sitting position, but found that impossible as the shape of her round impervious bubble-butt kept her from regaining any balance she might have had, the center of gravity now lie on her navel-pussy.

 

“Master, what did you do to Pussy Slave now?” she squeaked in frustration.

 

“You did it to yourself,” I grinned.  “Now…what to do…” I wondered exactly what the sixth panel on her heel was for.  Pressing it down firmly and pushing upwards on her locked legs I felt yet another pop mechanism.  Her V-shaped legs were now even higher and there was absolutely no way of getting up off her back.

 

An idea clicked on in my head and I attempted to use the sixth panel once again.  I pushed upward on her hips again…once…twice…three times…

 

Her corset was bending and locking with each pop…ratcheting her extended pussy-cock closer and closer to the pussy in her navel.  In a fit of excitement and discovery, I ratcheted her hips all the way up to 10 pops.  Her legs were now extended in the v-shape past her head, exposing her round shiny pussy-anus…meanwhile the pussy-cock that was extended inserted itself neatly and perfectly into her navel-pussy, and with a wet pop…the two were now stuck inside one another!

 

She wiggled and rolled and tried to get back up on her back, but her hips were now pressing deep and hard across her pelvis, locking her in place.  She was in frustrated self-pleasure at this point, as she was unable to do anything about it except flail her arms about.  She tried reaching for the back of her heels to try and release the locking mechanism…but try as she might…even with her hands virtually close enough to do so…she was unable as the hyper-extended ballerina heels, when they had originally formed, extended her legs to nearly twice the length of her arms.  She wasn’t even able to touch her stiff heels…although the heels themselves wiggled and clicked together with the front of the toe-heel like an abstract toe.

 

I decided that I liked these locking mechanisms and proceeded to grab her rubber arms and pull them beyond her head…locking them once again at their joints.

 

She now had little choice to comply with what I had in mind for her.  Even though they were long paralyzed tubes, I discovered her arms also had small ratcheting properties.  Her shoulders could move forward and backward, along with her other joints.

 

It was almost as if she had become a Barbie doll of sorts.  Her fingers still wriggled, but that would only be for a little while, I determined.

 

I rolled her upwards onto the round of her pussy-anus while sweeping the rubber hair from her back to her front.  I proceeded to twist her arms upward at the base of the spine in reverse-prayer fashion.  She was not in pain in the least, as the rubber bone structure inside her body was as flexible and durable as could be.  The ratcheting mechanism instantly took hold of her joints as though she were hand-cuffed from behind.  Unable to move anything except her fingers, she giggled orgasmically and began to play with them as they were forcibly touching each other.”

 

“Master!  This is fun!  Do something else to Pussy Slave!” she smiled her rubber pussy-smile.

 

“Okay,” I said, “How about this!” I proceeded to unlock her arms from the heel mechanism so that they fell loose and easy…she rolled back on her back due to the momentum and was once again unable to move her engorged torso.

 

Once again I locked her arms in place, this time, however, I had them cross over each other like a sexy sarcophagus taking her fingers and gently inserting them into her hungry pussy-breasts.  She smiled happily, as I had found a way for her to be immobile, yet pleasured.

 

She was almost perfect, I determined…just a few more touches and I would be ready.  I looked at her long black rubbery hair, and then the round suckling pussy-anus that begged for my caress.  It gave me yet another idea.

 

“I’m diving into rubber bondage fetish headfirst, so I might as well utilize the toys of the trade…”  I thought.

 

I told Pussy Slave I would be right back, and she cooed in assent as she continued to pleasure herself in her tight little ball of rubber ecstasy.

 

Finding Samantha’s old rubber closet, I dug deep into the drawers and other things that she seemed to have pleasured herself with at least once…dildos, fake pussy lips, a mouth cock…most of them didn’t seem appropriate for what I had in mind.

 

Then I found a pair of things I didn’t expect to find…and combining them I discovered that it would be the perfect way to transform Pussy Slave into a raving rubber ball of orgasmic bliss.

 

The first object was a butt-plug.  Normally these are used to plug the anus to give the body a sense of fullness and penetration…but this butt-plug in particular was hollow by nature…most likely for the purpose of inserting electrical stimulators or other toys in the anal area.

 

The second, amazingly enough, was a form of bondage hair-clamp…it may or may not be orthodox, but it was designed in such a way as to pull a woman’s hair to a single focal point, usually used to clamp a woman’s hair off and turn it into some sort of pony tail.  Normal women would find this to be incredulously painful, but for the case of Pussy Slave, it would pure happiness.

 

Entering the room, I discovered that Pussy Slave was already drinking the juices she had spurt with her own lips…her cum was coming, I knew that very well…hopefully I wouldn’t be too late for the surprise I had in mind.

 

Rolling her up so that she could at least be in an upright position, despite having her legs dangle v-shaped in the air, I began to gather her curled hair…pressing the switch on her heel…it shifted to long rubbery straight hair, perfectly suitable for the project I was working on.

 

Taking the hair clamp I gathered all of Pussy Slave’s hair up into it as much as possible at the end.  With a small latch, I clamped it shut, locking her hair into a single point.  Because of all the hair I gathered into the clamp, the clamp now dangled halfway up her shiny rubber back…it really took up a lot of hair in the process.

 

Knowing full well that my sweet rubber bride’s hair was unbreakable, I inserted the hair-clamp into the hollow of the butt-plug.  Somehow it fit together nice and snug.

 

With a vigorous yank I stretched the full length of her rubber hair down the length of her back and inserted the butt-plug/hair-clamp combination into the welcoming rubbery anal lips.  She accepted it greedily with a slurp from her anal-pussy.  Taking my thumb, I pressed it as deep inside her anal-pussy as I could.  It disappeared as the lips clamped shut around the rubber hair that was stretched to perfection.

 

The result was that her long rubber hair was pulled taut by her own greedy rubber anus-lips…this combined with the ratcheting arms fondling and plugging her pussy-breasts, on top of the forced locking insertion of her pussy-cock into her pussy-navel, instantly trapped her in 6 means of constant pleasure.  Her head began to bubble with cum that almost dripped but was swallowed just as quickly by the micro-pussy follicles.

 

I almost forgot that there was one more panel at the base of her wondrous rubber en point heels that arched in such a way as to both protect the switch mechanisms and prevent Pussy Slave from getting her hands on them.

 

She continually pleasured herself happily as I casually pressed the seventh panel at the base of the left heel fused to her foot.

 

Her eyes shot open into wide black orbs and her jaw shot upwards, unable to watch the pleasure except with her other senses.  Her mouth slowly ratcheted open with a few quick pops into the widest O I had ever seen her make.  Her pussy-lips were now at least 4 inches in diameter!

 

Her neck was frozen in place and unmovable, her jaw locked open, and her head lifted in such a way that she could not look down at what she was occupied with…the additional strain of her head pulling her pussy-hair even further…she was breathing in heavy rubber squeaks through her pussy-lips.

 

I noticed that her red rubber fingernails were now biting deep inside her pussy-breasts with anticipation, the opposable rubber heels wiggled for attention.  Looking on, I saw that the pussy in her navel was chomping hard on her pussy-cock, although it was hard to see as she was ratcheted so tightly on her hips that she might as well have been folded in half…finally I could see her pussy-anus was sucking on the gift I had gave her rhythmically, the butt-plug/hair-clamp was nowhere to be seen, most likely due to the fact her pussy-anus was about as deep as her pussy-cock was long.

 

“At last…” I sighed…and gently rolled her round form towards the edge of the bed…her head thrust outward, perpendicular with her round rubber rear.

 

Taking my cock, I gently glided it up to her face, letting it hang in the hollows of her wide pussy-mouth to tease her…and all she could do in this position was to desperately try to lick it with her black rubber tongue, however this was useless as it was blocked by a stretchy thin wall of latex hymen that seemed to prevent her tongue from pleasuring herself on my sex unless I ‘broke her in’.  Her tongue pressed heavily against the wall, trying to break out and caress my member, her heavy breathing made the hymen inflate and deflate as if she were blowing sexy red rubber bubblegum, the holes in the sides of the hymen seemed to extend to unknown tubes that lined to her esophagus which I assumed is what caused her to squeak when she breathed or spoke .

 

It seems that each pussy mouth on her body has the ability to repair its latex hymen to flawless rubber integrity, forcing her to revert to ‘virgin’ status if she doesn’t keep herself well sexed; this meant I could enjoy the pleasure of ‘popping the cherry’ sans blood, as many times as I wished.  I shifted my weight a bit, while piercing the hymen with a stretchy ‘pop!’ allowing her to accept my member and then proceeded to gently stroke her pussy-ears with my fingers.

 

Her eyes closed tight in complete and total contentment, almost as if she was sleeping.  Her nasal cavities breathed heavily in the scent of her being, pleasure in every breath, every taste, and every sound.

 

It was true that Samantha Parson was the source and ultimately the cause for Pussy Slave’s existence…however, as much as she wanted to be…she could never pleasure me like Pussy Slave could.  I think I finally came to terms with that fact.

 

They may have shared the same body, but it is how they used their body that counted…at least to me.  I knew there was a dark side to my heart with the idea of having a rubber slave with me, and perhaps it only took this long to embrace that side of myself.  But having Pussy Slave by my side helped me realize that women, even women in bondage, are the most beautiful creatures in all creation.  That is precisely why I desired Pussy Slave over Samantha.

 

As she continued to fondle my shaft with her tongue, I almost swore I could hear faint humming.  She was singing while sucking on my penis, almost like some kind of sexual lullaby.

 

To me, love and pleasure went hand in hand, and when I had Samantha, I certainly had love…but the pleasure was never there.  She usually only tried to please herself and satisfy herself…which was something that made me feel alienated from her.

 

In the case of Pussy Slave…even if she wanted to be pleasured…she put her own desires aside and came to both love and pleasure me.  As a result I came to want to love and pleasure her.  The trade-off may seem one-sided at first, but it made all the difference.  The rubber and bondage and other tools were simply icing on the cake.

 

And when it came down to the choice of choosing which woman was the real woman I wished for…I chose Pussy Slave, simply because she allowed me to share my feelings and shared the experience equally.

 

After a time, I systematically released all the locking mechanisms on her body, allowing her to fall back into a normal state.  She shakily stood back up, as it had been a while since she’d been on tip-toe, but soon her body had adjusted to once again being Master’s Pussy Slave.

 

That afternoon Pussy Slave and I sat and had a discussion about why I had given her new life.  Of course, considering it was Pussy Slave, the conversation tended to always end up with her in a state of climaxed horny confusion.  She had the short attention span of the stereotypical blonde…and was ready to pleasure me in an instant.

 

“Pussy Slave,” I began, “You realize that the both of us are immortal?” I asked.

 

“Im-ooor-tal?” Her quizzical blonde look again.

 

“It means we’re going to be living together forever.” I said aloud.

 

“That makes Pussy Slave feel happy!  Always always happy!” She smiled, then slurped her innards as I could tell she was cumming.  Her red lips flexed themselves all over her body.

 

She danced a little in her excitement and it dawned on me that her hair was still trapped inside her round pussy-anus.

 

“Pussy Slave,” I commanded, “You need to spit that butt-plug out now…”

 

She pouted, but when she tried to spit it out…nothing happened.

 

“Uh-oh!” She cried.

 

Apparently the dildo was now lodged deed inside her grateful pussy-anus…so deep in fact that it appeared to have traveled unknown lengths deep inside her.  I tried to tug at her hair from the hole, but the more I pulled, the longer her rubber pussy-hair stretched from the inside.

 

In admitted defeat…I decided that I would need to cut Pussy-Slaves hair…at first she was disappointed and sad that I would do this, as it would take all the pressure off her already over-indulged pussy-follicles.  But when I told her that she was both my Wife and my Sex Toy…she realized that in order for her to have fun…I had to have fun…so she complied.

 

Taking a nearby set of sharp-shear scissors…I snipped the back of her black flowing hair…but what happened next somewhat astonished me.

 

Her anal-pussy, during this whole time, was eating the long hair inside of her, stretching and stretching it to impossible lengths and eating it like spaghetti.  The moment the hair was cut…the anal-pussy sucked the severed lengths into its mouth, never to be seen again.

 

Somehow it had learned that eating its own long hair kept it pleasured…somewhat like training a dog to drool.  The hair on her head began to grow back almost instantly, but before I could stop it, the pussy-anus latched onto the hair that dipped low between her legs.

 

“Pussy Slave is very sorry, Master!  But anal-pussy won’t let go of Pussy-Slave’s pussy-hair…”

 

Somehow I had a feeling I no longer had control over the relationship going on between her various orifices.  I gave it some thought: as much as she was my sex- slave…she was also my Wife.  And because of that I let her do as she pleased with herself…despite the training I had given her earlier to the contrary…she had still retained her martial arts skills from her previous encounters, making her the perfect sex-toy/bodyguard.

 

Soon she had learned to insert her own pussy-cock inside her pussy-navel with ease and was consuming it on a regular basis.  She also discovered that her moaning pleasured her pussy-ears (although I made her promise not to moan at night, so as not to keep me awake), so doing that as well as pleasuring her pussy-breasts kept her busy for most of the day, despite the constantly repaired hymen walls in each of her sexes.

 

But as much as she enjoyed pleasuring herself…there was one thing she could not resist…and this usually resulted in her pussy-cock leaving its ‘home’ with a wet sucking pop.

 

Despite the constant climaxing she experienced and the constant bombardment of her pleasure centers that always assaulted her innards and thought processes…she was only ever truly happy when I gave her pleasure or when she pleased me.  This she said was Pussy Slave’s only purpose.  And if pleasuring herself didn’t please me, or at least give me a hard on…she instantly halted her activities and desperately tried to find ways of making me happy.

 

Sometimes she tried to behave like the women she saw on television.  This made me laugh but only for the wrong reasons…as she was no Marilyn Monroe or Cameron Diaz.  But after a while she started to learn how to behave and act like she had used to as a normal woman…it was as if some sort of odd hybrid between Pussy Slave and Samantha now lived with me.

 

She of course had gotten used to her surroundings and even learned how to take care of a few things around the house.  She of course had developed a natural reflex for sucking up any cum in her body before it spurted.  While the sucking process was noisy, I could tell that the flexing of her innards took a lot of energy and put her body under intense moments of strain…even more so than the constant walking on her ballet-boot heels.  Of course there were days when she had to completely release herself, usually in the bathtub, as the process of holding it in was strenuous.

 

I found Pussy Slave’s cum-bathes to be somewhat entertaining, as her body released the stuff in gallons, filling the tub to the brim, and this without the drain being plugged…the pace at which she came was slow and steady, but her body rattled and shuddered as every pussy-pore emptied itself.  The result of the bath in cum created a strange sheen effect on her rubber body and hair.

 

After a few moments of simply relaxing in the vat of cum juices she had excreted…and quite possibly was still excreting…she began the process or re-goring the fluid into herself…sucking like a straw…at times it amazed me that she was able to hold so much cum inside her innards…there were of course times when I would caress her I could feel a large amount of cum fluid sloshing around inside of her…but in the end she learned how to relieve herself.

 

She actually realized that the toilet I had in the house was used for relieving me.  Taking the hints I had provided, she instantly snaked her pussy-cock out and relieved herself of the day’s white gatherings.

 

She still of course took cum baths every once in a while, just because the sensation was so great on her body, and the result seemed to make the rubber skin and hair of her body radiate like some black and red rubber angel.  It took some time, but I installed a special high-density bathtub-spa that allowed her to release herself completely just for this purpose as the fluid would be recycled in special plumbing beneath the tub. Due to the high volume of cum she released in these sessions, the pressure in the pipes was enormous, however I managed to create a special filtration system that allowed me to insert special ‘rubber-enhancing’ nutrients into the ‘cum-stream’.  The result made her more stretchy and pliable on a regular basis, much to my delight.

 

I had of course, maintained my art business long after the relationship between me and my Pussy Slave had been ‘permanently’ established.  Because of the nature of the business I felt the need to move out of where we were located, and purchase a more suitable home for Pussy Slave.

 

Using money from Pussy Slave’s Bank Account (Samantha Parson was now dead to me), we took a travel jet over to Germany, where it is said that the greatest rubber bondage mistresses hold their organizations.

 

I had decided at long last, that I was no longer going to keep Pussy Slave a secret to the public.  Besides, it didn’t matter how many folks encountered her, or how long she ‘visited’ the various rubber clubs and other groups…she always hobbled back to me.

 

50 years had gone by and Pussy Slave and I hadn’t aged a day.  I heard a nock at the door of my new ‘permanently established’ rubber mansion.  The walls and floor were rubber, including furniture, with exception for the windows and doors.

 

A young woman wearing what appeared to be a grey and blue Dominatrix outfit complete with riding crop had come asking about the rumors she’d heard about the mysterious fetish marvel known as Pussy Slave.

 

“Why yes…” I replied with a glint in my eye, “This is where she lives.”

 

I had long adjusted my personality to that of a Domm whenever other fetishists were present.  Never once did I let my guard down around them.  They found me to be deliciously mysterious and some had literally begged me to put them in submission like I had with Pussy Slave.  Of course, simple begging I immediately declined.  Pussy Slave was as hard core into fetish as you could possibly get.

 

“She’s…incredible…” the woman was indeed marveled at Pussy Slave’s abilities and ‘security system’.

 

The woman began asking a plethora of questions concerning Pussy Slave’s physiology.

 

“How is she wearing her rubber skin like that?  Are all those faces on her breasts and body real?  What’s her pain tolerance?”  She asked deliciously poignant questions one after the other…feeling herself up while she did so.

 

After all the questions she bombarded me with, I gave her a single answer.

 

“She is a rubber goddess…if ever there was a perfect rubber essence, she is it.” I smiled.

 

“But…how is that possible?”  Her lips were practically drooling and begging for whatever drug that Pussy Slave was on.  I continued to tease her.

 

“I’m sorry, but that’s a family secret.”  I grinned.

 

“But you must tell me!  I want to become like her!  I want to become…perfectly under someone else’s control!” she savored the words with relish.

 

“You HAVE to tell me!!” she grabbed me by my crimson playboy-robe and hit her knees heavily, begging me for a means of achieving the rubber perfection.  As a sign of her giving up her Domm ways…she threw her riding crop aside.

 

I arched my eyebrow in Pussy Slave’s direction.

 

It had been at least a week since we had someone beg like this.

 

Strangely, and almost unnaturally…Pussy Slave began to laugh at the woman.

 

“What’s so funny?!” She yelled, “Tell your slave to stop laughing at me!”

 

“But you misunderstand…that’s the joke.” I said, with a smile.

 

“I don’t understand!  How come you won’t help me?”

 

“Let me ask you something,” I began…just like I always did.

 

“…Who is it in your life that you would throw away everything for?”

 

“Is there a man you love so much, or a woman out there that means so much to you, you would become less than human to make them happy…even if it meant eternal rubber hell?”

 

“What is it that makes you happy?  Pleasuring your self or pleasuring others?”

 

“If both…which pleasures do you enjoy and value the most?”

 

“Would you give up one pleasure for another?  Would you sacrifice one pleasure for another even greater pleasure to come into your life?”

 

“How do you feel about happiness?  Is it something you always indulge in, or something you chase after constantly?”

 

“How do you feel about your life…do you want to live with heaven or live with hell?”

 

“How do you feel about death?  Is it something you look forward to?  Do you value pain?”

 

And the last question:  “Do you wish to be a woman?”

 

The young woman stood, and as I offered her a chair, she began to answer the questions one at a time…

 

“There’s this man in my life that I’ve always treated like my slave, ever since we first met…I’ve done just about everything to him, but nothing phases him…it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t react anymore.  I thought about role reversal, but that doesn’t seem to cut it…he’s too used to being abused.”

 

Her tears were evident, just like the last person’s had been.

 

“If you ask me if I love him…yes…yes I do with all my heart and I’d do anything to make him realize I’m alive and that I want to be with him. But it feels like his heart is dead to me.”

 

I had Pussy Slave gently sit on my lap as she told her life story, and how she found out about Pussy Slave.

 

“And I guess I like to be pleasured as well as give pleasure…but as long as I’m a Domm in his eyes he’ll never try and make an effort to make me happy.  I’ve always liked the thrill of domination, but now I want to know what absolute submission feels like…what it’s like to live in constant climaxed pleasure…yet tortured with the thoughts that you never feel fulfilled unless your Lover is pleased with you.  I would give up my own personality and create a persona just for him if it came down to it.  I love rubber, but I also love him…if I could have both I’d be in heaven.  It doesn’t matter if I’m going to become something I’m not, just as long as I become what he wants.  Death is something I never considered…but I worry about losing him someday.  Maybe if I go on, someone else will find me but…he’s the best for me, right here, right now.  And I’ll always be a woman for him.”

 

I evaluated her answers and gave it some thought.

 

“Do you really want to become an eternal Pussy Slave?” I asked.

 

“As long as the man I love will be my new Master…I don’t care.” She said, most assuredly.

 

I glanced at Pussy Slave and she gave me a knowing smile…albeit a rubber one…filled with wet cum slurp.

 

“Bring him in…” I commanded.

 

Pussy Slave chirped in response and clicked her en-point heels as she walked out the front door of the mansion…she wheeled in a man wrapped from head to foot in latex, bound on a dolly.

 

“Take it off…all of it.” I commanded…albeit averting my eyes to the man’s genitalia.

 

Pussy Slave proceeded to strip him of all his bonds.

 

The man now stood before me, naked as the day he was born, albeit a bit shocked.

 

“Towel…” I commanded.  “I refuse to look at another man’s penis…maybe other men like it, but it messes with my mojo.”

 

Pussy Slave wrapped a towel around his bare portions.

 

“What the hell?  Where am I?”  The man enquired.

 

“It doesn’t matter where you are, sir…what matters is who you’re with.”

 

He looked at his surroundings and discovered that his Domm was now sitting next to me in the Guest chair.  The two looked at each other…he regarded her stiffly…and she broke down in tears.

 

“I have a proposition for you.” I said.

 

“No deal…she’s my master…that’s all there is.” He responded coldly.

 

“Hmph…” I nodded, “I thought you might say that.  Little do you know that being a slave to sex can actually be a position of power...”

 

“I answer to no one but her.”  His voice was beginning to crack.  Being naked in front of me instead of in his usual bondage and torture was starting to feel like a new torture in and of itself.

 

“You’re so used to being the one being told what to do…but do you even consider her feelings?” I asked.

 

Being interrogated like a soldier was something he was used to, but only when she was the one who was asking the questions.

 

His silence gave me my answer.  Her sobbing got louder.

 

“Have you ever known what it feels like to be both penetrated and penetrator?”  I asked.

 

Of course he had, I could tell by the flush look on his face, the butt-plug on the floor, not to mention the penis-enhancing sheath lying next to it.

 

“Being penetrated and being the penetrator is the same thing as being a master and being a slave.” I said, “If you receive all the pleasure and punishment, you take things for granted, you expect them to happen.  But in reality, it is the Master who is the slave.”

 

I pointed at the woman who was sobbing next to me for emphasis, “She has been penetrating you for so long you became complacent…you forgot what it means to enjoy sex.”

 

The man’s eyes seemed to break a little and soften…it took a few moments, but he no longer saw the relationship as master and slave…but more as man and woman.

 

“Alana…” he said in a somewhat shaky voice… “I’m sorry.”

 

It was quite obvious these two were more than just master and slave.  She had fallen for him and he seldom ever acknowledged it.

 

The two of them stood together; as I watched the same things occur before my eyes for perhaps the hundredth time in the past 50 years.

 

I broke the silence between them, “I will ask you again…do you wish to be his eternal slave?  And I do mean slave in the purest sense of the word…not servant, but the only woman dedicated to him and only him?”

 

“Yes.” She said resoundingly.  He was a little surprised at her answer of course.

 

“Keep in mind, sir, you’ll still be a slave of sorts…but you’ll also be her master.  That’s how it works.”

 

I began to tell them about the relationship between Pussy Slave and I…first with the nature of her condition, second with the nature of my own.  You see…I had grown addicted to Pussy Slave…I was her sex partner…and thus her sex slave as well.  At the same time she had no will…I was her will…I was her slave of her will.  We were eternally entwined.

 

I finally asked them both if it was what they wanted.  He was certainly not used to the idea…and role reversal was something he wanted to avoid in some capacity.  He feared it in some ways.

 

“I…guess…it is what I want.” He said finally…weighing his options.

 

Standing up, I shook the man’s hand…bath towel and all.

 

“You will not be disappointed, I assure you.” I said to him.

 

Then I proceeded to touch the woman’s shoulders, not in a sexual way, but in a more businesslike way.

 

“You’re going to disappear.” I said.  “I don’t know where you’ll go, but you’ll be a completely different woman.”

 

“I could never make him happy as I am…” she replied, “If it means becoming something else…I’ll do it.”

 

I sighed at last…having them sign a bunch of papers that effectively gave all asset control of her over to him.  The information they provided not only would determine who the master was…but also what the new Pussy Slave would look like.

 

“Now…let’s begin.”

 

“Pussy Slave?”  I called.

 

“Yes, Master?” she squeaked happily…and she was more than happy to grant this couple their wish.

 

“Okay Pussy Slave…cum please.” I said.

 

Pussy Slave didn’t take long to respond.  She produced a cup and released herself just a bit, filling the contents.

 

The cum was different from either the black cum or the white she always drank.  This time the cum appeared to a milky silver color.

 

“Have a seat.” I said to the woman.

 

She complied, the first of many things she would be doing in the near future.

 

“Tell him he’s your Master.” I said softly.  It wasn’t a command, but a request.  It was a way of imprinting him in her memory.

 

“Master…I love you.” her eyes brimmed with tears.

 

He simply sat, dumbfounded.  He had no idea what was going to happen next.

 

“Drink this…” I said.

 

She drank the silver cum, and almost immediately her body went limp.

 

The man’s eyes somewhat showed concern.  She looked like she was dead.

 

“Let me be the first to inform you that even though the woman you once knew is gone…her body is still going to be apart of your life.  She won’t be doing much thinking, and the process of living with her will take some getting used to…but you’ll manage.”

 

He nodded, entranced by the sudden transformation taking place around her body.

 

Pussy Slave and I watched too.  In the many years under my servitude she had learned that men and women need each other just as a master and slave need each other.   Without a slave, there is no master, and without a master, there is no slave.

 

After a few hours of observation, the newly born rubber woman emerged from her silver rubber chrysalis.

 

“Hello…Master.” She looked at him with the most genuine rubber eyes, her mouth rounding into a perfect O.  According to order specification, the young woman formerly known as Alana Van Hauser had transformed into one of the thousands in the now developed and patented “Pussy Slave Line”.  I watched with amusement as the young man who had been her slave up to that point began to learn every aspect about her new body…

 

It took some careful wishing, but I managed to give Pussy Slave the ability to replicate customized versions of herself, versions that didn’t merge with her original self…she could change the color of the skin rubber or lip/nail rubber, or hair rubber style based on what the client requested…however the only thing we are unable to do is reconnect the consciousness of a man or woman when they transforms into a Pussy Slave.  They usually disappear forever.  It’s why I usually end up asking my clients such hard questions. 

 

Also unlike all the other Pussy Slaves…my Pussy Slave is the only one capable of ‘reproducing’.  It is not that I have monopolized the business of generating Pussy Slaves…in fact part of the secret of my work is that all business transactions are free.  The only financial involvement I have is transferring financial control from one party to another…it is how I do business.  The only ‘profit’ I’ve ever made was donated to me by several rubber associations as an award for ‘Rubber Excellence’…not that I need money anymore.  And no-one ever managed to capture Pussy Slave and extract her ‘special cum’ for their own financial gain…although some tried; the end result was a trip to the hospital in traction or worse…in a coma.  I had long ago pleaded my case to the courts for a special pardon in the case of Pussy Slave, that should anyone threaten her, she is fully within her rights to defend herself.  She of course assured me she would never kill a man, nor would she forcibly make them into new Pussy Slaves.  In fact due to her skills as a martial artist, some have arrived not so much for the reproduction ability she can grant, but in particular for special physical training or martial arts training.  She has the physique and skill of the world’s most deadly assassin…however that’s a sword I generally keep in its sheath and never talk about.  The fact that she can perform these skills in 10 inch rubber ballet-boots was instantly recognized by both Ripley’s Believe it or Not, as well as the Guinness Book of World records!

 

The Newborn Pussy Slave in question was designed to look just like she had when she was still Alana for the most part.  Her hair style was similar…her skin was an iron rubber grey, fingernails and rubber pussies along her body were surprisingly blue in color.  Of course that was her request as blue was her favorite color.  Her hair fell in curly stretchy gray, and she still retained all the features of my Pussy Slave…including joint locking and the various pussy lips and self-repairing hymens in each pussy, all this, not to mention the ever-famous pussy-cock.  She was of course stuck in the mode of calling him Master and referring to herself as Pussy Slave…but again, that is something that kind of became fused with what Pussy Slave originally was.

 

The new silver and blue Pussy Slave slowly began to awaken to her abilities.  Her faces and mouths breathed in the new pungent air and the fluids inside her innards began to flow.  The climaxing sensation began pumping her like a steady heartbeat.

 

Like a mother hen my beloved Pussy Slave stepped in, her own orgasms in sync with the newborn.

 

“Pussy Slave #457876…” she addressed the woman directly, “you are his new Pussy Slave…and you must make your Master happy!” she smiled.

 

She began to transfer some kind of ‘memory cum’ she had called it…into the woman’s body…she drank it with desperate hunger.  The memory cum would basically act like a textbook, transferring all knowledge Pussy Slave had gathered over the years, both mental and physical, to the newly formed Pussy Slave.  The knowledge also included a form of automatic ‘house-training’ that prepared the new Pussy Slave for living with her new Master.

 

The silver Pussy Slave’s eyes fluttered as all the memory cum flooded her thoughts…she still however retained the imprint that the young man was now and forevermore her Master.

 

And sure enough, just like a young teenager dragging on his first cigarette, the young man became addicted to her.  He felt liberated, of course, which frightened him a bit…but he also felt that it was his responsibility as her new Master to take care of her.

 

“I…I feel somewhat bad about watching Alana disappear like that…” he said abashedly.

 

“Would you rather she pull a gun to her head and pull the trigger?” I replied with a smirk.

 

He immediately shook his head no.  He then began to explore his new Pussy Slave’s innards…his life had changed forever.  Whether or not it was for the better…well…he wasn’t so sure.

 

“It’s like…I’m forced to obey Alana’s whims all over again.” He said with a smile on his face.

 

“And yet she is virtually helpless without you.  It’s an interesting situation, isn’t it?” I smiled.

 

“Thank you, sir, I have no idea how to repay you.” he said.  Most of my clients never knew my name, as I had kept them insisting on calling me ‘Sir’.  It was a way of remaining anonymous, but also a means of enjoying the expressions on long-time Domme’s faces as they tried to get used to referring to me as such.  The contract I had them sign was for confidentiality protection, insurance purposes in case they were somehow unpleased with the result, and also for paperwork so that I could keep track of each and every Pussy Slave that was born.  Strangely enough they all have their own distinct personalities, even though eternal slaves to their sexes and partners, perhaps this was Pussy Slaves gift to them:  Forever gone, but not all gone from their former selves.

 

“Just make sure she’s well sexed every day.  Oh yeah…and keep the towel.” I said with a smile.

 

The young man gathered up all the bondage tools and other things…which apparently he no longer needed to some extent, and lead her out the door, her blue rubber pussy-lips gleaming with fresh cum while she wiggled her round hips on pirouetted ballet-boot heels after him.

 

As the two left…I couldn’t help but give Pussy Slave a gentle kiss.  This of course sent a wave of fluttery joy to her body.

 

“Master is in a good mood!  Did Pussy Slave do good to help that couple today?”

 

“Yes you did, dear.” I smiled.

 

A few minutes later a second knock came…this appeared to be yet another ‘begging’ client.

 

“Two in one day?” This was most definitely rare.

 

A couple entered the room dressed in rubber.  It appeared to be a non-S&M relationship.  But there was more to it than meets the eye.

 

“Sir, we heard about your Pussy Slave and how great they are…but we also heard they were extremely expensive.”  The young man began.

 

“Indeed they are…more than you can imagine.”

 

“Well the thing is…my wife and I haven’t had sex lately…not for a very long time…as if that wasn’t bad enough, she recently discovered herself to be a lesbian…And well…I feel like I was never able to please her.”

 

The young woman looked particularly ashamed, but at the same time, she felt as though it was a part of her nature.

 

She helplessly threw up her arms, “We’re married…and we’re stuck!”

 

“I might have a solution for you…but it’s going to cost you.  You could say it might change your life” I said very calmly.

 

“Really?” The young man asked, “Do you think you can help her fall in love with me again.”

 

“We really want to stay together…” She nodded.

 

“Let me ask you something,” I began…just like I always did.

 

Pussy Slave began to massage my back with her long rubbery fingers as I told them the story.  She glanced casually at the fireplace mantle at the shimmering stone embedded in the rubber crest in the wall, the stone that could grant wishes, and smiled all the while.

 

 

 

 

The End?