Bensonesque

1.

Just a quick trip. A magazine to buy, a parcel to post, window shopping. Humming absently to the song in one ear, courtesy of her mp3 player, she mooched pointlessly and happily along the street.

To her surprise her free arm was caught in a grip and forced up her back. 'Be quiet' whispered the voice, breath condensing against her cold ear. She knew him. She was quiet.

Discreetly she was levered toward the side of the pavement, into an unused doorway. 'You are a disgrace' said in a fierce whisper. 'Your posture is poor, your clothing unsuitable, your shoes are shabby and boyish'.

She tried to turn, to offer empty excuses. But he held her arm still, and her neck was now gripped. Turning was possible, though clearly unwelcome. 'You will return to the house, leaving the door open. When inside you will undress. You will wait by the wardrobe, back to the door. I will be nearby at all times. You will not acknowledge my presence, but I will be there.'

She did as she was bid, she wanted to. Nothing sounded too scary. Indeed, there seemed to be benefit to this arrangement.

And so, she found herself, shivering, by her wardrobe. She heard him as he entered. She considered turning to greet him, but realised this was implicitly forbidden. She grinned to herself. He entered the room. And immediately blindfold and gagged her.

Again, sotto voce, 'you are a disgrace, enough of this play, you started so well, but you fail to improve. I will make this happen'.

'Do you want to improve, to satisfy me better'? With vigour, she nodded. 'This will be difficult, it will demand much of your strength of character and body. You have a safeword, do you recall it'. She did, they had a spoken safeword and safewords for various degrees of restraint. 'Do not use it lightly, it may mean that we are no longer compatible if you do.'

With infinite care he dressed her. Sliding the latex across her body as she stood, barely helping because he didn't want her to. Aching for him to stop a while, touch her for longer, be more accessible to her, but he remained cold and perfunctory. Dressing his imperfect doll.

Head to toe in latex, she stood in front of him, swaying slightly without the reference points hitherto provided by her eyes. Deafened by earplugs, gagged and blinded by her hood, her senses were forbidden to her, smell remained. And oh, the aroma.

To her relief he pushed her down and she lay on the floor. Shackling her balled mits to her waist and to her feet, he was gone. She sensed he was gone. She didn't know what to do. She lay. She felt that was what he wanted. She drank in the smell of her new skin, she listened to the sound of her blood rushing through her head. Her tongue flicked across the large, smooth, insertable gag.

Time was already ceasing to have relevance. But he returned eventually. He started to unzip her crotch, and a cold chill signalled that she was open to his machinations. All she knew was that she became full. Her anus bulged, her pussy gladly and wetly accepted a further insertion. To her horror and with certain discomfort she was catheterised. She felt a chill steel against her clitoris as an inert something was placed against her. She was frustrated that it was not moving and made a noise to indicate her displeasure.

Immediately, air was stopped. Her gag was closed to the world. The duration was interminable, she bucked against the closure, burned for air. Finally she was released. There had been no accompanying press of her groin, but still she was pre-orgasmic. She ached for release. None was given.

All this in silence, if he spoke she did not hear him, she was isolated, her needs were being ignored. She was bereft. She ached for comfort. None was given.

He pulled her to her feet, she was hobbled, the walk was hard, she stumbled, she felt clumsy and stupid. But the walk was short. Brought to her knees by a swift push forward she barely stopped her face from hitting the floor in front of her.

He kicked her rubber bottom until she realised she had to crawl forward. She could only crawl so far. Her way was barred. She tried to turn, but could not, confused she panicked. She tried to back out, but her cell was closed behind her. Now she knew her fate.

They had spoken of it, but surely these were only dreams. They dreamt often. Warm and wet in public places as he whispered tales of subjugation, stories of filth and fun. And now, her dreamer had shown he wanted more. So did she. His audacity thrilled her. And scared her.

And she sat in her training box. Bulging in Bensonesque wonder, she knew that she would be here some time. And knowing what lay ahead, she shook with fear and anticipation. The buzzing thing began to buzz. She was so ready for it. Thank God. And as her body began to buck, it switched off. Her mind howled with rage, but she was impotent to display it. She pictured him laughing.

Her stomach growled, she wondered whether she would be fed today.

2.

She'd had a little time to explore, as far as this was possible with her balloon hands and sightless eyes. Her cage was hideously small. No room to lie flat, she could rest in foetal position. Her remaining options were to lie, knees bent, as a dog wanting a belly rub. She could kneel, as she had upon entering this strange world.

There appeared to be 'windows' of some sort to the front and rear of the compartment. More than that, she could only surmise.

Primarily, she was bored. Her normally agile and easily distracted mind ached for stimulation. In defiance to whoever may be watching, she sang. Wordlessly, but loudly and tunefully she made her way through her favourite songs. Then she realised that the buzzing she so enjoyed, worked only when she was silent. So she was silent. But not once did the buzzing play her trembling clitoris to final orgasm. But oh, so, so close. Her spherical hands rubbed ineffectually at her groin.

She was quietly working her way through the bones of the body, a mental exercise, when movement alerted her. 'Game over' she thought as the gag was opened. Her sightless eyes widened as she received a cock in her mouth. 'Action stations' she thought and brightened at this new option. But this lesson in oral was harsh. His hard cock pushed fast and roughly into her mouth, which was already aching from a long period opened wide. He scarcely gave her time to breathe. Unable to pull away because of her confines, she felt a little anxious. But it was certainly his cock, she knew it's shape, it's girth, she knew his style, his strokes. This made her less fearful in spite of the searing lack of air. He came deep into her mouth and his cum deposited into her craw. This was quickly followed by a seeming torrent of hot piss. She swallowed frantically, trying to reserve breathing time. No sooner had he finished, than the gag was replaced.

Simultaneously, the delicious buzzing resumed, and to her delight remained on until, already desperate, she came a mere few seconds later.

'Game not over' she sighed.

It was the hunger which bothered her. Her belly screamed for attention, but got none. She had discovered the drinking bottle, the end of which delivered water into a hole in her gag. Like a guinea pig, she kept her fluids up. But that did not assuage the hunger.

Her brain was shutting down. The need for stimulation seemed to be lessening. She found that she was often unclear about what her thoughts had been for large periods of time. Her resistance was lowering. Her fight was dying. She concentrated on her body, on it's sensations. She became utterly tuned to her every synapse. At first it was intolerable, as the nip of the corset, the yaw of the gag, the fold of the latex became gigantic irritations. Then that too faded. She concentrated on breathing, for it was not easy. She concentrated on feeling.

And she concentrated on the infrequent visits which resulted in cum and piss and buzzing.

It was a little time before she realised that she no longer needed the buzz. When he came, she did.

Not long after his visits began, he began to visit her ass. Removing the plug, he violently fucked her, sometimes he used toys. Sometimes he even fucked her pussy, but not often. And each time, he trained her to come after he did.

Sometimes now, alone in her cell, she thought of his visits, and through those thoughts and quietly, she came.

3.

She never liked the godammed bike. She disliked the treadmill more. She hated both with passion when she was required to work on both in skin tight rubber. Her corset restricted her breathing almost as much as her hood. Her breath was ragged through the gag and yet still she was required to work. Thankfully the treadmill was fairly slow, but well inclined, and it was safe to say that her ability to walk long distances in her heels was improving. The sessions on the stairs, instilled an effortless glide to her performance, where previously there had been yelps and jerks.

After her workout, there was always the bath. Warm water lapping around her black body, running over her latex. The sound as the water was dribbled sensuously over her head was mesmerising and she anticipated this part with pleasure. This was the only time her hands were released from their mitts though they were immediately shackled to hoops on her corset. She was given a ball (?) to exercise the numbness away. Hands gently caressed her, rubbing down her body with water.

The bath did little to remove the grime on her skin, her hair was probably evil beneath her hood. Her teeth missed the toothbrush, but then, they hadn't seen solid food since she was incarcerated, small amounts of liquid food had been squirted into her mouth at infrequent intervals. She no longer noticed the hunger.

The culmination of the bath was always immersion. Firm grip indicated the time. She was doused beneath the water as she knelt, face first, into the lukewarm water. She had seconds to draw breath before she went under and she was held there until she felt she should surely drown. And with each immersion, her panic grew and so did the heat in her loins.

Exiting the bath with care, for she was slippery like an eel, she was dried and polished most slowly. The care he took as he prepared her shining body left her in no doubt about his feelings towards her, though doubt had existed. He made her shine in more ways than one as he lovingly caressed his shiny doll. Her corset was tightened again to the point of discomfort. She was returned, glasslike in her perfection, to the cage.

Slowly the time assumed order. She awoke. Soon he came to her and used her mouth, or her ass, or her pussy. Never more than one hole was used during a session, rarely was the same used twice in a row. If he needed relief, he pissed, usually into her mouth, but sometimes into her ass, where the ache and bulge of pee enema was finally removed by the tube she now knew she wore there. She realised that she was his urinal, he came to her too often for there to be any other place for his stream.

After he'd used her, food came next, never much. She no longer cared.

He came again a little later, fiercely and absently using her shiny black rubber body to satisfy his need to come.

Exercise came next, followed by her bath. Then back to the cage. A little more food.

The first time it happened was after her bath. She thought she sensed another nearby, but was unsure. She returned to her cage as normal, waiting to be used. This time her mouth and tight ass were assaulted at the same time. So cowed was she by this time, that it barely registered as unusual. But, given her conditioning, the orgasm from being raped twice over was sublime, she felt her legs should surely collapse. It took some time in her cage for the feeling of pleasure to leave her. The vestiges of who she had been crept into her silent mind and asserted themselves. 'Who was that? You didn't know him.' She didn't really care and the thoughts left her through lack of attention.

4.

The party was bizarre for her. Her old personality reasserted itself in a most unwelcome way as the power of sight was somewhat restored to her. Just after a bath a blindfold containing small circles of dark glass replaced her usual visionless mask. She could see, just. She was terrified. And in her fear she became needy. These feelings were unbidden to her; but he was patient. She knelt on the ground at his feet and trembled. She didn't want to see the normality around her. Beneath the glass her eyes were shut, retaining the dream as long as she dare. He waited until the trembling died down, then unzipped his fly. With his soft member in her mouth, she was grateful for the diversion, and gleefully worked him to erection and ejaculation. And with his ejaculation, of course, she came. Her nerves were somewhat stilled.

There were people downstairs. And as she arrived, meekly behind him, they gasped and they clapped. She absently wondered why. At once she was assailed by people. Touching, pressing, feeling her gagged mouth, pressing her bottom, feeling the ends of the rubber insertables. Her eyes were closed but the people could not see. Nobody spoke to her, always to him. She couldn't hear them anyway.

She felt the weight of expectation upon her but didn't know what to do. After so long incarcerated, she realised the lack of will and self expression. She was grateful when she was finally and gently pushed to kneel at his feet.

From her dark lenses, it was clear they were playing cards. Long periods of isolation had made it possible for her to sit quietly during this process. Absently his hand caressed her silky back. This small show of possession aroused great passions in her and her loins heated unbidden.

Several times she gladly accepted the urine of the partygoers as the beer they drank oppressed their bladders. Her own bladder became quite full, the need to pee long absent from her days of catheterisation. She knew she must hold, so she did.

Then, much movement, the room was awash with people moving. She remained kneeling, uncertain of her role. With a jerk, she was taken centre stage. The people gathered around as she was unceremoniously unplugged. Then, like a black queen bee, the workers roved over her body to the unheard sound of a starting pistol.

Filling her body with their bodies, sealing her, releasing her, she knelt silently and was used by every man there. Even the women took their fun, armed with strap-ons, fisting her whilst they hungrily kissed all around them, filling her with dildos of all sizes. She licked their throbbing clits to orgasm as this Bacchanalian feast fired their excitement. And as they came, so did she, for that was her teaching. Each time they watched her back arch, heard her moans, they cheered. She did not count the times her body convulsed, but she knew it was many. In a crescendo her beleaguered bladder could withstand no more and as she came a final time, the hot stream of piss created from piss was released. It thundered to the floor, and those who were lucky held their hard cocks in it's stream, wanking a final creamy deposit onto the slightly muddied latex shine of her much used ass.

By the time they had tired of their toy, by the time they were spent, she was exhausted.

Never was a doll so glad to be put back in it's box. She had no time to consider the events of the evening, she slept the minute she curled up.

5.

And that was her life. She had no notion of the time it took. Of day or night. Of who, or why or even what. These considerations were not hers to make. The stresses of life were removed from her, she gave no thought to her previous life. She no longer existed in all but the vaguest way.

6.

She didn't even consider whether she was happy. She just was.