Archive-name: Bondage/ortific.txt

Archive-author: Count Alucard

Archive-title: An Ortificial Story





  A while ago I seem to remember someone proudly saying in a story that

they used all three orifices.  It is probably a flaw in my character that

I find an element of challenge in certain types of statement.





    Happy Birthday darling.  Did you enjoy the meal?  Yes, that's right -

now it is time for that surprise photograph I promised you.  How can it

be a surprise if you know it is going to happen?  It will be, I assure you,

but first you must be made up.  Come and squat down over here with your 

back against this pole.  Hmm, it _does_ look like a giant penis doesn't it?

There, put your arms back and let me handcuff them on the other side of it.



    The cuffs arn't comfy?  Wait a moment while I put these eight

cylinders between your fingers and then I'll put some clear plastic glove

on your hands to pad your wrists.  Your feet keep slipping?  Ha - I thought

of that as well.  You want to know what the cylinders are for and how I got

plastic boots that would fit when your toes are slightly spaced out?  You

obviously don't have enough to keep you preoccupied.  Let's see if this

anal vibrator does the job.  Ah, much better.  You look so cute when you 

writhe like that.  You scowl but don't say anything?  Sensible, but don't 

expect it to save you from much.



    Some of your hair has flopped forwards and covered one eye.  Can't have

that.  I have just the curlers to keep it in place.  Now for the saran wrap

Round and round it goes.  That should support you snugly, though your 

chest is getting quite sweaty under there.  I'll cut a few holes in it. 

Now lets see: one for between your generous breasts, two for your shaven

armpits.  Yeah, the holes wern't just for ventilation.  Did I tweak your 

nipples getting those rings off?  I have different pendants for you to 

wear there tonight.  See?  They match these new ear-rings.  Now that's done

I'll fill those holes, appropriatly of course.



    This double dildo frightens you doesn't it?  I can tell by the way

your eyes widened and you only half stopped that convulsive gulp.  I know 

you have strong blocks against showing fear because we discussed how you

want to get rid of the phantoms in your mind which keep dictating that

you must always be in control of yourself.  We can do it together, I will

help you.  It is OK to be afraid, but open your mouth anyway.  There.  That

wasn't so bad was it?  You are gagged by more than your pride now,  my 

special double dildo only slightly fills your mouth, but you have swallow

one tube, down to your tightly contracted stomach, and the other passes

your numbed throat to your air passage.



    You have millions more orifices you know.  I'm going to draw a few

phalluses on your skin in body paint to symbolise filling all those pores,

follicles and glands with miniture male members.  Be glad I havn't worked

out a way to put stuff under your nails without permanent damage. 

Perhaps I shouldn't mention things like that - you nethermost lips are

glowingly engorged and their nectar is dripping on the floor.  Young

ladies shouldn't see such things.  Open wide, I'm going to put your

contact lenses in.  You can't see?  Perhaps I should have mentioned that

these arn't your normal pair.  Instead of a transparent blue tint they each

have an opaque green vertical stripe large enough to cover a pupil.

Cats-eye blindfolds I call them but they will do instead of intruding

upon your tear ducts or gently displacing your eyeballs.



    The smell you are sensing is warm wax.  You should be familiar with

it by now.  I have a number of delicate plugs to shape for you.  Two

for your nostrils, a very small one for your urethra and lastly a couple

for your delicate ears.



    Lastly did I say?  You can't hear me now but I can see your expression.

I have so distracted you that you have forgotten one very importand

orifice.  When I gently endow you with an ice cold crystal dildo fixed

as an attachment to my professional camera, my internal picture of you 

comes as a complete surprise.



    Happy Birthday, darling.



 

    

        1992   (c)   Count Alucard





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  This is actually a repost.  The original post was canceled due to sense

changing typo.   Why is it that however many times you proof-read something

you always miss at least one error (generally the most critical one)?

  As always, feedback welcome.  What narrative style do you prefer?  First,

second or third person?  Are you more provoked by the actions going on or

the mental states of the participants?  What effect do stories have on you?

What effect would you like them to have?  Who ( if anyone ) do you find

yourself identifying with?  Why?

  Not that this is any guarantee, but if you bother to reply, you are more

likely to get the sort of stories you enjoy.



  Count Alucard (who bets nobody can work out the number of different

    types of bodily orifice fit for dildos mentioned in the story).



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