Archive-name: Bondage/lovedoll.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Love Doll





     I walked up to the silvery metal framed contraption,

not exactly knowing what it was. It's construction was of

chromed tubes and bars that glistened in the soft lights.

The frame approximated the figure of an adult, but there was

much more to it. There were straps at ankle and waist level,

along with various restraints for the thighs and shoulders.

I felt very apprehensive about it's purpose, but reserved

any mention about my hesitancy. She had me walk up to it

frontwise and place my feet into some sort of holders, which

simply consisted of the act of "stepping" into them, and

therefore, into "it". The holders were actually spike heeled

ankle boots permanently fastened to the device. My

stockinged foot slid easily in, and I became acutely aware

that these holders would literally keep me on my toes, for

they felt like ballet boots, stretching my toe joints to

their maximum. I felt very little actual weight on my heel.



     As I stepped up to the device, my neck fit up to a

semicircular ring, or collar, that was also permanently

fixed to the framework. I could have pulled my upper body

back, to remove my neck from contact with the ring, but saw

no immediate reason to do so. The core of the ring, while

obviously metal, was covered with a plush padded wrap. A set

of small diameter holes could be seen around the top of the

ring. She wrapped a soft strap about each thigh and pulled

them snug to the frame. The front on my legs were pulled

into a set of pads that kept my legs straight, and slightly

spread. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was obvious that I

had lost control of my leg movement. Another soft strap went

about my lower torso, slightly above my hips, and another

just below my armpits. As she tightened both of these, my

body was likewise pulled tight to the frame. There were no

pads or other obstructions in proximity of my breasts, but

there was a curved plate, with two round cut-outs where a

larger set of breasts could fit. My chest was forced tightly

against this plate. I could feel pressure all about, but

aside from my bra, there were no sensations from my breasts.

She left my brassiere in place, my small mounds now

protruding firmly out from my chest.



     My right hand was raised straight out from my shoulder

and pushed into an oddly shaped latex mitten that did not

resemble any mitten at all. My right wrist was fastened by

soft straps, of a material similar to that used about my

thighs and torso, to an extension of the frame. The thumb

was separated from the rest of the fingers, which were

tightly pressed together and forced into a curve, a position

you would use to pick up a round object - like a small cup,

with my thumb around the other side - but there was no cup.

As hard as I tried, I could barely manage to bring my finger

tips together with my thumb tip to form a perfect circle.

The mitt was rigid enough to prevent me from either closing

them too hard or opening them too far. She raised my left

hand and fastened it in a similar manner, into a similar

latex mitten.



     At this point, the only movement I could make of free

will was to drop my head backwards, from the collar ring

that circled around the front of my neck. As the thought of

doing this came into my head, I heard a click on both sides

of my head accompanied by a soft pressure on the backside of

my neck. I realized that she had snapped on the back half of

the ring collar. The ring was positioned at the base of my

neck. Even if the rest of my body were free, the strength of

the ring prevented my head from similar freedom. She cooed

in my ear. I flexed my muscles, testing for free movement,

but found none, except for my head, which was still free to

swivel about. I was effectively attached to this metallic

frame.



     She walked from left to right in front of me, eyeing me

up and down, with a half smile on her face. It wasn't a

wicked smile or a pretty smile, perhaps more of a smirk. Her

look made me appreciate how helpless I was at the moment.

She left my field of view. My curiosity fully aroused, I

felt it was time to ask what was next, for it seemed her

restraining activities had ceased. I had no sooner opened my

mouth when I felt her fingers slide something between my

teeth, forcing them open perhaps an inch. I instinctively

pushed my tongue forward to explore this invasion of my

mouth only to find nothing there; my tongue went right past

my teeth and out through my lips! I felt around with my

tongue to discover that an insert had been placed to prevent

my teeth from coming together. The restraint had a large

round opening directly in front, between my upper and lower

teeth, and was obviously pliable at the inner circular edges

with the force of my tongue. With it in place, anyone could

force something past my lips and into my mouth, without my

able to bite down on the foreign object or otherwise prevent

them from doing so. I could open my jaw further, but not

close my teeth closer than maybe an inch or inch and a half.

This restraint did not prevent my lips from closing however,

with effort I could bring them all the way together. I could

feel tiny rods extend from the sides of the insert outward

past the corners of my mouth. My exploring done, I

considered opening my mouth as wide as I could to force this

thing from my mouth.



     Before I could try this, I was distracted by something

sliding down over my head. I could not readily tell what it

was, but my eyes did catch a glimpse of a thin wire cage-

like affair being lowered about my head. The look

immediately reminded me of that which encloses a fan blade,

a device constructed to prevent one from accidently touching

the blade. She came around to my front, raised her hands to

grab this thing on each side and adjust it into position.

Her eyes met mine briefly and she smiled again, this time a

knowing smile. She said simply that "this was for my

protection". She fit the bottom spokes of the cage into the

holes in the ring encircling my neck. The wires of the cage

must have been spaced closer together behind my head than in

front, for I could barely feel but a few over my face. She

adjusted here and there by some unseen mechanism, and I

could feel the cage-like device come to assume the same

shape as my head. The cage-like spoke wires essentially

followed every curve and camber on my head. I found that I

could no longer push the insert out of my mouth for it was

held in place by the two small metal rods that ran out the

corners of my mouth, presumably attached to the cage-like

affair enshrouding my head. I could bring my jaw closed just

enough to swallow, thank goodness, for my mouth had started

watering from the presence of the insert. I was appreciative

that the material in contact with my teeth was soft and

rubbery, causing me no discomfort beyond the fact of keeping

my jaw apart.



     With her done playing with the device on my head, I

experimented moving my head about. Because of the cage and

ring's unique construction, it was still possible to swivel

my head, but the ring around my neck, obviously a mechanical

affair, only allowed about 15 degrees movement in any

direction. My head simply would not go beyond that imposed

limit. This seemed odd to me, the whole experience seemed

odd to me. I was rigidly strapped to a metallic tubular

frame in a sort of spread eagle position, my arms

outstretched, hands inserted into some sort of gloves and

held in a peculiar position, my head encased in a wire cage,

but allowed to move about. I didn't feel like I was in any

danger, at least not in the traditional sense. None of the

bindings were particularly tight or uncomfortable. I was

however, exposed to any and all, and unable to defend myself

against any advance. She came back around to my front and

spoke to me.



     She informed me that I was to have a most unique

experience, one that I would surely enjoy, or so she hoped.

She told me that if I thought what has happened so far was

bizzare, the best was yet to come. Instead of trying to

describe it, she had to finish "setting me up". Once the

preparations were complete, I would understand. She walked

to my side. I could hear metal on metal, and all of a

sudden, my body was allowed to pivot about my waist, to bend

over forward. As I had come to be in a relaxed state,

somewhat limp in the frame, I immediately started to fall

forward. My legs were kept vertical by the frame, my feet

unmoved in the ballet boots. She caught me as I moved, and

lowered me gently until my upper body had dropped about 45

or 50 degrees. A load CLICK was heard as the frame locked me

into this angle. Thankfully, my body rested upon the frame,

as I don't think I could have sustained that angle long

unaided. My cock dangled in front of me, free to enlarge if

it so desired.



     I could raise my head slightly and see her go directly

in front of me, sliding open a large door to an adjoining

room. The floor level in the next room was significantly

higher that the floor I was on, perhaps two feet higher. I

could make out that the room was small, perhaps 6 by 8 feet,

and decorated like a sitting room; nicely furnished with

rich appointments. She went behind me and pushed. I looked

down and realized there were two small tracks on the floor,

and my frame was slowly riding on them. She pushed me until

my head was in the next room, but not much more of me. With

movement restricted as it was, I could no longer view what

was behind me, or to my side behind my shoulders. I could

feel slight air movement signifying she was moving around

the room, doing something.



     I became aware of a structure of some sort being

assembled around the rest of my body. Her activities took

several minutes. Something was placed tightly around my

waist. I could feel it fastened, but only tightly around my

lower waist. Otherwise I would have likened it to a

corsetted feeling. Several minutes later, I could feel her

moving my hand around. A loud click, and my arm was moving

freely, although still attached to the frame. Another click,

and it was locked into place again in a new position.

Something was placed around my wrist and I could detect

significant other activity in that area. A few minutes

passed and similar things happened to my left hand and arm.

This already was the most bizarre thing that I had ever

experienced, and this still was only the "set up"?



     After several minutes of quietness, I saw a side door

in front of me open and she walked in. I tried to talk, but

unable to operate my teeth, all I could do was create

humming noises. She walked to the door between the room that

she had slid open initially and moved it back towards

closed. Obviously, my shoulder was in the way so she stopped

it when it touched my right shoulder. She went to the left

and slid another door towards me. This one had a cutout that

allowed it to close and seal with the first door, leaving my

shoulders, neck and head sticking through the wall at about

her waist high. This must have looked awfully peculiar, this

upper bust of a caged head sticking out of the wall in this

decorated sitting room. The reason for this became obvious

at her next movement.



     I could not see earlier what she then brought out from

the corner of the room. It looked like a cross between a

mannequin and one of those inflatable love dolls with one

notable exception - there was no head. It was flexible, for

I noticed she had to squeeze to grab it. She brought it over

to me, placing it directly below me, propping it against the

wall like some Raggedy Ann doll. It was perfectly sized so

that it's neck came up to where my neck was. I was beginning

to understand. As it sat there, I looked at how it was

dressed. I recognized the style as one of Victorian times,

like the younger women had dressed in the movie Dangerous

Liasons. The busoms were stuffed into and overflowing from a

tight satin bodice with a wide flaring skirt. I could see

oodles of lace and petticoats peeking from below the low

hemline. I was appreciative that the model had large breasts

that enticed, nothing like my manly mounds. She came back to

me, and started pulling a rubbery latex head piece down over

the cage like spokes on my head. She had to work it

carefully, for it was very tight. I could do very little but

try to keep my head still, to assist her in this most

difficult task. After she made it past my ears (my ears even

fit into it's ears!) it went easier. The piece came down

around my cheeks and chin, around my neck, and down around

the ring collar around my neck. She spent several minutes

working around my neck, pulling here, poking there,

fastening this and that. When she was finally finished, she

stood back for a long moment and stared. I moved my head

around and upwards, straining to see the look on her face,

but I could not draw my head back far enough to see above

her breast level.



     She backed off across the room, to a wall table, and

grabbed a hairbrush from it. As she turned and came back to

me, I could make out her face, a look of determination

across it. I could see much was on her mind. She came to me

and began brushing my new long hair. I could see wisps of it

fly past my eyes as my head was pulled back and forth. My

head could only move so far before the ring collar prevented

it from moving further. It would come to an abrupt stop when

maximum travel was reached. Her brushing done, she went back

to the table and grabbed a hand mirror. At last, she gave me

a view of myself. My first since this predicament began.



     She had to hold it for me, since my hands were

somewhere on the other side of the wall, doing who knows

what. I looked, and marvelled. It was me, at least my

consciousness. What I saw was not me. What I saw was a

rather striking young woman, dressed as I had described

earlier, Victorian era, sitting on the floor of a nicely

appointed sitting room. I appeared to be simply sitting

there against the wall. I could move my head slightly about.

The angle that I was protruding through the wall matched

rather well with this sitting body. As long as my head

didn't move too far in any direction - and it couldn't -

there was the perfect illusion of a young woman sitting,

waiting, with her head bowed. My head was joined to the body

in such a way that was not discernable without very close

inspection. Anyone entering this room would see the young

woman and could take advantage of her willing waiting mouth,

which was really my mouth. At this point, I couldn't see any

way I could stop them. My teeth were forced open, unable to

prevent entry, while my lips were pursed in anticipation.



     She knelt down beside me and spoke. She told me that my

rear end was outfitted similarly, and showed me a Polaroid

she has just taken. I looked aghast at the image. At first I

couldn't believe it was me, but taking into account the

transformation I had witnessed to my head, my mind fit the

pieces together to believe what was in the picture. I saw

the backside of a woman, mostly naked except for an

extremely tight corset, standing with her arms stretched up

to either side of her head then fastened to rings on the

wall, her forehead tipped towards the wall. A wooden bench

with large velvety pillows on it was in front of her at

pelvic level forcing her to bend forward over it as her

hands were secured tightly high against the wall. She had on

a garter belt that I recognized as the one I was wearing,

with tight stockings in tippy toe boots. The bench was

exactly where the cleverly disguised tubular frame really

was. The ass and legs were mine, but the upper torso, head

and arms belonged to a mannequin, the joint between me and

it was secreted under the corset. I could see the straps

around my ankles and upper thighs, now apparently attached

to the mock bench. Obviously the plot here was that any

perpetrator could come up to my backside and invade my ass,

receiving a real ass from the body of a doll. I made a

babble sound of protest. I also hadn't found out what

happened to my hands yet.



     She took my question and flipped to two other pictures.

Again I could not believe my eyes. The pictures were similar

in composition. In each picture was a woman, or reasonable

facsimile. One was kneeling, dressed in a classic tweed

suit, knee length skirt, champaign blouse with ruffly neck

and suit jacket matching the skirt. She was wearing pearls

and had every look of success. Her head was pitched slightly

forward. The other picture was a classic New Orleans hooker,

overly glitzed and whorishly dressed. She was also kneeling,

but I had not yet made the connection between them and me. I

was told that the latex "mitten" I wore really was inside

each doll's head. My hands formed round receptacles ready to

milk any man that needed the servicing. I looked closely and

saw how the dolls were positioned. Each was in the corner of

a room and had their back to a chair or pillow that

concealed my arm.



     So that was it, I was to be a 4 station fuck machine.

As the reality of my predicament set in, I barely listened

to the rest of her words. All that I remembered was that the

"ass" users would be provided with KY jelly on the table

next to me so as to not cause too much pain since they were

told I was a "virgin". As she was telling me this, I

realized I could already feel light stroking moving up and

down my buttocks. I remained still (as if I could move

much!) while the strokes gained in force. A little fondling

around my anus hole preceeded a feeling that I became very

familiar with in the hours that followed. A cock was

entering me, slowly. The slight pain of penetration was

followed by a constant force that seemed to take forever to

fully enter me. The unknown cock paused, then slowly began

drawing out. He would draw back until the head was just

about to pop out, then push back in. He made long slow

sensuous strokes. I silently thanked him for being gentle.

His movements continued as I felt his hands come around my

hip bones and grab me. He used my hip bones as handles,

controlling the in and out motion. My ass felt oozy as I

realized it was the lubricant assisting my butt fucker. I

mumbled some sounds and she told me that at any time I would

feel someone behind me. I had news for her! I already did! I

made more mumbles containing obvious pleasure. She paused,

realizing what I was feeling, then whispered that she hoped

I was enjoying my ass fuck. She stood and finished tidying

the room, only glancing at me occasionally with a

flirtatious smirk. I felt action at my left hand. A back and

forth movement was happening and I realized I was milking

some guys cock. My pulse, already increased from the

servicing I was receiving at my ass, caused me to gently

squeeze my left hand to add to his pleasure. Perhaps it was

a release of energy from the fucking I was undergoing. She

took one last look at me from the door. I looked at her wide

eyed, pleading, a cock in my ass and another in my left

hand. She smiled, blew me a kiss and disappeared.



     I sat / stood / layed there. I enjoyed the slow

rhythmic stroking of the cock making friends with my rear.

The sensations were much more pleasurable than I ever would

have believed. The person availing himself in my left hand

was pounding the poor dolls head in a nonstop frenzy. I

tried to match my contractions to his pumps, but his furious

lovemaking was hard to follow. I squirmed my ass and tried

to wiggle the best I could to get the most out of my rear-

end lover. Thoughts of him made me forget the scenario

before my eyes, until I saw the side door open.



     In came a man, well-dressed, wearing a dark pin stripe

suit. I did not move my head to see his face. I remembered

her final words as she left. She told me that none of my

"customers" tonight knew that there really was a person

inside the dolls. As far as they were concerned, these were

life-like mannequins with special features to accentuate the

experience of sex. To this end, I did not move my head, but

tried to observe his motion with my eyes. He removed his

shoes, leaving them neatly under the bench against the right

side of the room. He dropped his pants to the floor and lay

them carefully on the bench. I then saw him turn and observe

me, and my apparent situation.



     All he saw a young woman in a period costume. Bulging

breasts begged to spill from the top of a satin bodice.

Puffy sleaves delicately caressed milky skin while large

furls of skirt and petticoat mountained about feminine legs

and could hide forbidden delights. He reached and stroked my

hair. The back of his hand brushed by my cheeks. I could

barely feel the rubbing through the latex of my head piece.

It took every bit of restraint to avoid making any noises

with all the action occuring to other parts of my body. I

was positioned sufficiently high to accept him with him

still standing. It didn't take him long to pull his manhood

from his underwear. He grasped it causing an instant

erection. As I was being thrust from behind, I was all ready

for something, anything. He straddled my (my?) legs and

moved towards me. For all purposes, they were my legs, my

breasts, my petticoats he gingerly stepped around. He moved

the tip of the head to the dolls lips, my lips. As I

breathed in I could smell the muskiness of his cock, trapped

in his underwear all day. He was hard enough to push in, and

did so, gently, not knowing what to expect. I held my tongue

against the floor of my mouth. I didn't want to scare him

off. With the heat I was in from my behind, I could have

bitten off his cock, anxious to release some energy had my

jaw restraint let me. His cock entered my warm moist mouth.

I could feel it make it's way past my lips, through the hole

in my jaw restraint. He pushed it straight in. I brought my

mouth to close around it, to give some sensation of

tightness. As I felt the tip at the back of my throat, he

strained the hole in my jaw restraint to it's limit. He let

out a slight sigh, mumbled something about how amazingly

realistic it felt, grabbed both sides of my head with

surprising strength and started pumping slowly. Withing 20

strokes he began increasing tempo. The hoop earrings in my

ears rocked frontwards and back, banging against my cheeks.

I opened my mouth slightly more. I could do nothing more but

allow him to fuck away at my mouth.



     I began to understand why my head was allowed limited

movement. He pumped into me, moving my head forward and

backward in a matching rhythym. The ring collar prevented

him from moving my head too far, to stress my neck and

possibly hurt me. This way, he can fuck me as hard as he

wants. He gets a realistic blow job (more than he realised!)

and be as forceful as he wants. As he began fast pumping my

eager mouth, I suddenly realised I was also milking someone

else with my right hand. A brief thought flew across my

mind. I wasn't sure which hand was the whore and which was

the prim and proper businesslady.



     At this moment I was simultaneously having sex with

four different people. Presumably not one of them knew about

the others. Each was within feet of the others, separated by

walls in their own little room, with me literally at the

center of attention. My butt-fucking lover kept up his slow

but substantial ministrations, my left hand was still

furiously being pumped, my right was receiving slower action

but more forcefull, and my mouth was filled with some

businessman's cock. The person behind believed that he was

ass-fucking some tight corsetted whore strung up by her

arms. My hand-job lovers believed they were mouth fucking

their respective love dolls, and the guy in front of me is

thinking he's giving a Victorian era harlot his special

load. I felt warmness in my rectum, and the rear-end strokes

slowed. I felt him pop out of my ass leaving a strange

feeling behind. I wanted him to re-enter me, to fill me.

Instead, he released my hips, and that was the last I felt

of him. At about the same time, my left hand fell still.

Evidently this guy's stamina ran out. I don't know how he

kept it up as long as he did. I kept squeezing the cock in

my right hand, masturbating to the best of my limited

ability. After a few minutes, I felt hands and a towel

wiping off my ass. Was it my lover? Probably not, someone

probably preparing me for the next one. I concentrated on

the cock in my mouth. I began to give small tongue massages

as he pumped me. My right hand lover stopped also. He didn't

last long! The cock in my mouth increased in speed again. I

felt he would come at any time. The next cock entered my

ass. This one didn't feel as big, but he jumped in with a

fury. No gentle rocker this one, I could tell he wanted to

wham bam and thank me ma'am.



     I could taste saltiness in my mouth, I knew the

inevitable was near. As his thrusting became increadibly

pronounced, I felt warm spurts at the back of my mouth.

Knowing my only option was to take it, I swallowed quickly,

not even thinking of what I was doing. I milked him for all

I could. After all I had been through, his cum tasted good,

almost a relief. The guy behind continued to pump the

shackled corsetted whore in the ass like it was his last

fuck, unaware this little whore really just received a

delicious present down his throat. I was glad my chocolate

cherry had been broken by Mr. Gentle before this speed freak

got to me. The guy in my mouth slowed and shrunk. I pressed

my lips together tightly, to seal his juices in me and give

him a little going away present when he popped out of my

mouth. He withdrew and released my head, which I let drop,

like it should have. I felt a new customer start working on

my right hand, with slow deliberate pumps. I watched the

business man put on his pants and shoes while my ass was

worked like some common whore's. He stood next to the door

for a moment, I guessed there was a mirror there, then left

the room. I mumbled an unintelligible goodbye and ran my

tongue over my lips to clean up for number 2.



     While I squeezed the cock in my right hand, I again

felt warmth in my ass as I took another load in my rectum.

This customer didn't wait around, but made a hasty retreat.

I suppose one could think of this as the ultimate fantasy.

It is one thing to day dream about being a woman and being

made love to as a woman, but being four women at once! I

could do little but to enjoy it, and service my lovers the

best I could. After all, I was strapped in and forced to be

the vehicle.



     It had been several minutes since the businessman had

left. My ass was still smarting from the two invasions I had

endured. My right hand was feeling fatigued from the

relatively large effort it took to milk the cock I was

somewhat grabbing. I heard a click and the side door again

opened. I watched a man stroll in. Again I could not see his

face, but could easily see the dress, causing my eyes to

widen. He was wearing chicly faded black jeans, an unzipped

black leather motorcycle jacket with a wide shiny zipper up

the middle, straps hanging from various parts and other

zippers sprinkled across other parts, a black tee shirt with

some rock group's insignia emblazoned in the center, and

black motorcyle boots that shone in the dim light of the

room. I could see him walk to the center of the room, facing

me, apparently eyeing me and sizing up my situation. Again

feelings swept through me as I became the part of the scene

in which I sat. I was a Victorian harlot slumped against the

wall, my dress slightly wrinkled as I had just serviced a

gentleman's fine cock for a smile. I wished I could reach

and smooth my skirt and straighten my bodice, perhaps

pressing together the bulging of the two creamy bosoms, my

two aereolas barely peeking from the lace edging of the

scooped neck. My waist constricted to a breath taking size

serving only to connect my enhanced feminine hips to my

desirable overflowing breasts. I noticed an inordinate

amount of arm hair escaping from the sleeve of his jacket.

My earlier feeling of enthusiasm turned to dread as I

suddenly realized what he was there for. At the moment, I

did not have a love pole ramming home a message of desire at

my tail end as I had before. My arm and torso muscles

instinctively contracted as I involuntarily felt a keen need

to escape from the tubular frame.



     My fruitless efforts at escape lasted but a few seconds

before he walked to me. I tried to pull back but of course

could go nowhere. He put his ape hand under my chin and

lifted to view my face. Afraid of giving a clue that I was

indeed human, I froze my eyes still and looked straight

ahead as he lifted. In my periphery vision I could see a

clean shaven rather handsome face, young, perhaps late

twenties. My nose caught a slight scent of cigarette and Old

Spice. He looked me over for what seemed like an hour but

was actually fifteen seconds. I would like to think he found

me attractive, although, on the outside I only looked like a

love doll. He lowered my head till it stopped, put both

hands to his wide black belt, and undid the buckle. He

folded back the top corners of his jeans to expose his white

Jockey underwear and pulled his already stiff cock through

the fly. By now I caught the unmistakable musky smell of

pent up cock. I braced myself for the inevitable, trying to

run visions through my mind to "put me in the mood". He

wiped the head across my latex lips a few times, then pulled

back slightly and with his right hand holding it like you

would grab a hammer, pointed it straight towards my pliant

doors. He placed his left palm squarely across the back of

by head, grabbing some of my hair between his thumb and

forefinger. With control over my head, he angled my head

back until my face was vertical to the floor, perpendicular

to his rod. I looked down my nose at the immense length of

his shaft as he edged the head to my lips, breaking them

apart with a slight twitch of the domed end. Again, I

dropped my tongue to the bottom of my mouth. With his left

hand as a back stop, he smoothly and swiftly slid into me

and found the back of my mouth as an arrow finds it's

target.



     Unfortunately, his arrow was longer than my mouth was

deep. The curvature of the back of my mouth guided him well

into the opening of my throat. His left hand had firm

control for I'm sure I flinched at this, involuntarily

recoiling, what little I could move. He seemed not to

notice. He withdrew after a pause until the ridge of his

head was at my lips. I was dazed by the suddenness of having

his manhood forced down my throat. I had almost gagged but

had caught myself from making any verbal noises. I resolved

with urgency to relax my muscles as much as possible to let

him have his way, to accept him as far as he could push, to

not reveal that I was real. He again moved towards the back

of my throat, his long cock moving like a freight train in

the night. Again he hit the back of my mouth and was guided

down my throat. This time I was prepared as he slid to a

stop at full bore. He paused again and let out a gasp. I had

turned him on! This man in leather was getting off on my

mouth! This time, although ready, it was still difficult to

keep composure. I just wasn't used to giving deep thoat. As

he withdrew to my lips, I felt two hands spread my ass

cheeks wide and the ridges of a lubed up head of an unknown

cock pop inside my ass hole. As the man in leather again

pushed his arrow to the target down my throat, another rod

took a forcefull journey up the avenue of my ass. The one in

my mouth had already stopped in my throat as the one behind

kept coming. Maybe I was preoccupied with longness at the

moment, but it seemed that this one travelled alot further

into me than the previous two had. It felt like it was going

to bump into the one down my throat before I finally felt

his body bump my buttocks. They both began to withdraw

together and both ram together. I wondered briefly at the

unlikely probability of two men in separate rooms pumping a

mouth and an ass in syncronization. Some brain cells on the

side of my head took notice that the guy in my right hand

was done and had withdrawn. I let my hand go limp.



     They stayed in synch for at least 30 strokes. I had

lost count. In fact, the intensity of being had by extra

long rods in both ends put me into a delirium. I resigned

myself that I was powerless to do much about the invasions I

was undergoing. I let the man in leather have my throat to

his liking. Whenever he paused at full stroke, my nose was

forced into his leather jacket. I drew in overwhelming

scents of fresh leather that drove my olfactory system into

overload. If I had ever been in euphoria, this was it.



     The man in my ass kept his strokes long and smooth. He

always took me to full length. I marveled at both of their

staying abilities considering the sensuousness they were

experiencing, longer than I could have ever gone without

cumming. The ramming of these rods seemed to go on forever.

The man in leather finally gave three short strokes, all in

my throat, and held me tight, never releasing the back of my

head from when he started his campaign. The head of his cock

stayed down as far as he could push. I could feel cum

running down my throat as I held my breath for dear life. I

could feel the waves pulse along the bottom of his shaft

with my tongue as I stroked it inward, helping him empty

into me. All the while, long steady strokes pumped at my

back end. I lay there, a willing receptacle for his cum,

pleased that I had survived and, yes, even enjoyed this man

in leather.



     As he withdrew, I all of a sudden realised that both

hands were busy holding cocks and I was instinctively

milking them. The man in leather pulled the head of his cock

from my lips and held it about a foot from my face. I eyed

it, watching a few drips of cum drip onto the skirt of my

satin dress. He stuffed it back into his underwear and let

my head drop. I watched him walk across the room, zip his

jeans and fasten his wide belt with an easy motion. His

boots clunked as he walked to the door and stepped out.



     I gasped for air several times in disbelief of what I

had just been through. I swallowed hard several times to

flush his cum down my throat, although I never tasted much

of it in my mouth. The man in back quickened his pumping

and, grabbing my hips as his thrust handles, came to orgasm

banging my buttocks hard like I was being spanked on both

cheeks at once. I felt like my body would split in half as

his rocket left the launching pad and carve a path through

me, exiting somewhere from my head. I constricted my ass and

hands in unison several times and, as the man in my rear

injected me with his milky juices, let go with an ethereal

howl as I reached the closest I could come to my own orgasm.

I rocked hard back and forth into his pole, even though I

don't think I physically moved. I gave my hands a few final

squeezes, hoping to bring off the guys lucky enough to be in

my clutches.



     My whole body fell limp, my muscles exhausted, as I lay

breathing hard. I noticed the man behind me pull out and a

towel wipe me clean. I felt nothing at my hands and figured

the cocks were done and gone. With no external stimuli, I

drifted into a dazed, post-orgasmic stupor.



     After several minutes of idleness I heard the door open

but did not bother to even raise my eyes to watch whoever

entered. Soon I saw two legs come into view. They were nylon

clad and the feet were in servicable heels. Their appearance

seemed familiar and I vaguely recognized them as belonging

to the woman that had fastened me into this multi-port fuck

frame. I just wanted to lay and rest. I could feel her

fumbling with something around my neck, reaching under the

false face. After a half a minute, she raised the chin

portion of my doll head and pulled the restraint out of my

mouth. She gently let my mouth close and reattached the doll

skin to me. I mumbled an unintelligible sound of

appreciation as she walked to the door and disappeared. I

slowly moved my jaw around, regaining the pleasant feel of

being able to control it once again. My stupor continued.



     Laying spent, I felt another cock enter my behind and I

began to service another ass screw, as I lay emotionless and

unresponsive. I did not notice the door open until I saw a

pair of business wingtips and dark grey pinstriping adorning

some legs come towards me. I did not have any time or desire

to respond before the palm of a hand under my chin raised my

head. I looked down the shaft of a man's cock and watched it

enter my mouth. With the mouth restraint gone, I could have

refused entry, but did not. I was tired and spent. They used

me as I lay as lifeless as the love doll itself, becoming

nothing more than a love doll myself. Since the frame

propped me and held me in position, it took no effort on my

part to allow the men to enter me and use me. I felt at one

with the latex, corsetry and satin that enclosed me. They

pumped for awhile, and shot me full of their sperm. I

allowed it to flow down my throat and up my ass. I liked

servicing them with my mouth much more without the mouth

restraint in. I formed a perfect circle with my lips to

mimick the shape of the orifice. At times I felt cocks in my

hands, but still I let them do all the work.



     Several cocks came, and several cocks went. I allowed

them me as they wanted. Occasionally I would tongue one, or

squeeze my anus, but generally I lay still as I was fucked.

After all, I was nothing more than a love doll, provided for

use by any man that desired me.



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