Violet Lovedoll

Foreword: this is the story of a young girl who had been kidnapped and modified into a plaything for the wealthy elite, then bought by someone who is interested in her as more than just property.

Chapter 1 - A Helpless Prisoner

"Mmm-mmmmh..."

An exhausted, sensual moan echoed within a small room with sterile white walls. Its tone was full of raw lust and slutty desperation. The sheer lewdness of the sound was enough to make my embarrassed, blushing cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red.

-- Though that was mostly because the moan emerged from my own, gagged lips, plucked from me by the frustration and need that was taking away any semblance of control from me.

I was standing upright in the center of the room, though not by my own volition as my legs and feet were aching for a break. However my naked body could only tremble in the frame that imprisoned me. My cheeks, red and burning hot with arousal, felt the falling of a new teardrop.

-- Like every other tear squeezed out by my dry and bleary eyes, it was full of wanton desperation.

Acting on pure instinct, I struggled briefly against my bonds, jerking my feet and pulling my arms against their restraints. But in my heart and mind I knew it was all useless. My limbs were no freer and my fingers no closer to touching myself. All it accomplished was to make me pant harder, and maybe release a bit of the frustration that I could no longer bear.

I wanted to die, to cry, to scream, to lie down, to flail about in uncontrolled insanity and to simply lose my mind. But I could do none of these things. I could do nothing except stand here in the same

'I surrender so fuck me'

pose as I had done for days. My mind remained sane, enshrouded in a haze of arousal and desperation yet hyper aware of my torments. Even my tears had mostly ran out, aside from a rare drop or two that my glands just replenished which immediately filled my gaze.

My hands were held at shoulder height. A chrome cuff locked around each of my wrists and held them at the opposite ends of a 3ft-long yoke. This steel bar was attached to the back of my imprisoning frame, by means of a pivot that allowed my arms to swing up or down by up to 45 degrees. However, what little freedom it gave me was illusory and only served to mock me. I had tried frantically, on countless occasions, to bring my fingers to where they might do some good or even just touch my own body... but it was all in vain.

I leaned back against a rubber padded metal beam, hoping that this would at least take a sliver of weight off my aching feet. In the first few days I had tried countless times to shake my bonds against this vertical beam, in hopes that they would come loose. But each time it resulted in nothing more than exhaustion on my side, as the sturdy metal beam with its a 6-inch square cross-section stood unmoving in its spot -- rising straight from the ground until it reached behind my head.

A rubber-lined posture collar extended from just below the headrest to wrap around my delicate throat, keeping my head upright and prohibiting any attempts by me to look down at my own body. It also made my breathing somewhat difficult, as contrary to the 'innocent' looking ball-gag between my lips, a pliable long phallus that poked down my throat actually filled my mouth to its depth. The deep-throating gag held two tubes within -- an air duct that allowed me just enough oxygen to supply my lungs as long as I didn't exert myself, plus a feeding tube that went down to my constricted stomach.

Below my torso, a wide band of rubber-lined steel wrapped around my waist, which had been cinched down to just 20-inches by an underbust corset. The combination made even the slightest movement of my torso impossible, forcing me to stay stiffly in position before the vertical beam.

A second steel bar, not far off the ground and 30-inches wide, held my ankles far wide apart with its cuffs on the opposite ends. Like my yoke, this bar was also attached to the main beam through a swivel -- one that jutted out in front of the beam. It allowed the bar to horizontally rotate back and forth, though this didn't do me any good either. My legs were still spread just as wide, forcing me to balance precariously on top of my 6-inch stiletto heels, with their straps buckled tight and locked around my ankles.

The vulnerability brought by my spread legs wasn't merely there to humiliate me either. A curved balcony protruded from the front of the main beam, perfectly positioned to line up beneath my crotch. From its top extended three probes: a catheter into my bladder that made me feel like I was constantly peeing, an anal dildo that felt like it filled my entire rectum which also doubled as an enema nozzle, and last but not least -- a phallus that filled my love tunnel, leaving it feeling full but not stretched, then made up for this modesty by extending its realistic head so deep that it pressed uncomfortably against my cervix.

Combined with my crushing corset, these intruders left my stomach feeling unbelievably stuffed, with pressure bearing down on me from both the inside and outside. But the worse part wasn't that the dildos left me impaled, unable to get off these prongs that violated my most private parts. It wasn't even the fact that my legs were forced to stay apart, neither able to hide my impalement from view nor able to rub my thighs together to alleviate my needs.

No, it was the fact the vaginal and anal dildos both vibrated in a maddening way that was driving me absolutely insane...

--or at least, it made me

wish

that I had gone insane.

The vibrations had felt pleasurable at first, which might have been enjoyable had I not felt so utterly humiliated. But while they were strong enough to slowly bring me to a state of extreme arousal, they were just weak enough --

barely

-- to avoid making me cum. The strength of each vibrator also oscillated independently, just enough that I could neither figure out a pattern nor grow accustomed to them...

By the end of the first day I was thrashing against my bonds. But the end of the third I was alternatively screaming and begging into my gag for an orgasm.

How long has it been now? Enough for two weeks? Three? Standing here, helpless, day after day, while these tormentors teased me from dawn until dusk. I sobbed as I thought about my crotch and the intruders inside me that continued their sensual torture even now.

My hips contracted and pumped as much as I could, but with my torso held still by the corset, the marginal movements I achieved below were nowhere enough! My legs quivered nonstop as they were force to stay spread, unable to do anything except to feel the steady trail of love juices that ran down from my dripping crotch.

During my first day in this cell, they had also fitted me with a hood that left me completely blind and deaf to the world. Yet despite this they somehow launched an unceasing assault of pornographic experiences straight into my brain. I watched innumerable fetish maids, bound damsels, and collared slavegirls molested, raped, or just fucked senseless. The images and sounds were projected directly into the backdrop of my mind, making the act of shutting my eyes or other means of blocking it utterly useless.

For days it felt as though I was a forced spectator in every scene, while the entire time my bound, orgasm-deprived body screamed its desire to take those women's place.

The worst episodes for me were those where a helpless or crawling female submissive was forced to beg for penetration, as during this whole time the dildos in my pussy and ass worked nonstop to drive me into a sexual frenzy. I was forced to plead into my gag for hundreds, thousands of times during these scenes. The system could somehow tell if I'm begging properly, and rejection on my part brought either a painful shock in my pussy, or an extremely disorienting shock straight in my head.

It wasn't until the second week when I learned that if I did

everything

'correctly' and triggered no shocks from the system, then the vibrator would turn up at the end of the day until an orgasm ripped through me. But to go an entire day without punishment proved difficult as the machine seemed to react to strongly negative thoughts. Of the entire time I've been trapped here, I've only managed a handful of days where I was allowed to cum!

After many hours of teasing each day, the entire frame would tilt back until it retracted into a padded rubber mattress. Only then did the torment between my legs stop, and the visual feed into my mind severed. On most nights I would spend hours weeping and struggling pointlessly as the fires between my legs refused to quench. It was a small mercy that the exhaustion of being strung out all day would eventually send me to sleep.

There was little choice but to embrace the sex-addled environment that surrounded me, despite the fact that my own body was left unbearable horny and rarely able to orgasm. It did not take long before even my dreams were filled with erotic scenarios, often based on what I had been forced to watch, except with unknown men raping me instead.

Then, just two days ago, this ceaseless training and brainwashing stopped. A stocky, bespectacled man in his forties wearing a doctor's coat came in to remove my hood and 'Congratulate' me. He said that as I had passed basic training, it was now time for me to be

presented

...

I had no idea what that mean in the course of things. But I knew it wouldn't be good for me.

Chapter 2 - Buying a Lovedoll

The sterile wall facing me and my cell suddenly lifted without warning. It revealed a large glass panel that ran from the floor to ceiling. Two men approached in the hallway outside. One was the stocky, bespectacled doctor who 'Congratulated' me, while the other was a tall, handsome young man who slung an expensive suit jacket over his shoulder and wore a loosened tie.

"She's quite pretty, isn't she?" The doctor spoke first as his eyes looked upon me with equal desire and admiration.

"I'm glad I came to see firsthand. The photos just didn't cut it for me," the unknown man, who looked around twenty-five and couldn't be older than thirty, answered in a satisfied tone.

I couldn't help feel that there was something familiar about him. However my overheated brain turned up nothing as I passed his image through my mind.

My face burned bright as I twisted pointlessly against my bonds beneath their gaze. The glass could have been tinted to keep me from noticing. It could have been made soundproof to stop me from hearing. But it seemed this cell was designed to make me feel like an animal in a zoo, pointed at and discussed by the men outside.

Worse yet, the moment I laid my eyes on the men, a strange, exhilarating feeling washed over me. A wave of heat seemed to spread throughout my body, originating from the still-simmering fire between my legs. My body trembled and my pulse quickened, while my erotic, panting breath grew thick and heavy with need.

'What is wrong with me?' A thought in my mind shouted. The mere sight of an attractive male now made my body crave sex, and the humiliation of being examined by them only seemed to make me want him more. Despite how embarrassed I was to stand here, helpless and naked, I couldn't even close my eyelids or take my eyes off the man before me!

"Notice her pulse, breathing, and arousal levels," the doctor pointed at something above the window with a chuckle. "She wants you to fuck her already."

"You've finished her training then?"

"The basics, yes." The doctor nodded. "As our product introduction mentions, we've installed a neurotransmitter on the base of her skull in the back, right behind the cerebellum. This allows us to send digital signals straight into her brain -- such as playing videos directly into her visual cortex."

'So that's what was projecting those images into my mind,' I realized at last.

I wanted to touch the back of my head, to feel this device that had been violating my mental sanctum. But as I swung my hands up and down, with the yoke always forcing my other hand to go in the opposite direction, I realized once again that there was no way for my fingers to touch any part of body. The length of the steel bar simply forbade it.

"I wasn't aware such technology was available yet," the young man sounded impressed.

"It's quite cutting edge, straight out of the research labs. We receive much of it through back channels with government contractors and corporate directors, whose heads have..." the doctor's lips curled into a scheming grin, "taken an interest, shall we say, in acquiring discounted or free products in return, not to mention all the experimental data we can offer. However, due to the fact this technology interfaces with the human brain, I'd reckon it'll be years, maybe even decades, before it passes enough 'regulatory testing' for the government to legalize it. Obviously, we're not bound by such restrictions," the doctor chuckled.

"Benefits of being off the books," the man nodded. "But as you were saying about the training program?"

"Ah yes. We've conditioned her to feel arousal for bondage and submission, for authoritative men and forceful behavior. Order her to do something and her first instinct will be compliance. Push her down on the bed and her body will grow weak while her desires spike." The doctor then chuckled, "I'd like to take credit for all of this, of course, but it seems like she was predisposed to start with, so the training went a lot smoother."

I wanted to retort, but all that came through the deep-throating gag was a frustrated moan. Yes, I know I'm a submissive. Rape fantasies and bondage fiction were not alien to me. But that doesn't mean I want to be converted into a...!

An electric jolt went through my mind as the neurotransmitter must have detected my negative reaction. It obliterated my whole train of thought, and left behind... not pain; there was no sensation of pain; but my whole mind nevertheless felt an awfulness that words failed to describe. My entire body shook for a brief second, before my brain cleared away the shattered thoughts and began reconstructing a new awareness from scratch.

It started with how desperately my body needed sex and how much I wanted that attractive man on the other side of the glass to fuck me...

"She's not going to just spread her legs for just anyone, is she?" Said man asked, more curious than worried.

"No, of course not." The doctor waved his hand. "We'll be inscribing her eventual master into her consciousness in the final configuration. This is but a middle stage that helps with her other 'programming'. If you're familiar with the concept of psychological conditioning, think of the Skinner Box that's so well known in corporate product development, except only more intrusive and forceful. We've even started applying the standard package of conditioned responses during the days she spent sleeping; most of them are outlined in the booklet."

'Days'!? I had recovered enough to trembled at the thought. I was under the impression that I only slept long enough to rest each night, and simply experienced lurid dreams more often due to my constant state of arousal. How much time has it actually been since I was kidnapped!? How many days have they kept me in those virtual reality dungeons to be brainwashed?

"But her personality still remains fairly strong, and we could still go a long way to pluck the word 'no' from her vocabulary." The doctor went on. "The only reason we didn't is because customer feedback show that some masters prefer to have a bit of fight left in their slaves, so we always wait for a buyer to settle before we make the final adjustments..."

"I'd prefer her--a doll with some personality," the man almost stumbled over his words. Then: "it'd be boring otherwise."

'They're selling me into slavery!' I thought as my body trembled, partly with revulsion but partly with desire. I already knew this was likely the case -- why else would they spend so much time and effort training my sexual responses? But to have it confirmed before my face, to feel my crotch tingle as they spoke...

I closed my eyes and felt tears of shame and self-pity roll down my cheeks.

"It seems you've made your decision then?" The doctor asked with a smile.

"Oh, she's definitely the one," the man put a hand into his pocket, the way men often did as they tried to suppress an unwanted erection. "Though do you have to apply the full bodysuit that's described in the intro? It seems like a bit..."

"It's required for our 'Ultimate Lovedoll' product line, and we do have standards to meet here at the XTC Doll Company," the doctor replied. "But trust me, you'll like her better that way. And you do get to choose the details of her integrated outfit, alongside hundreds of other options and accessories. For example, we could make her voice lighter and more girlish, or program her to beg for punishment whenever she makes a mistake, or..."

The doctor's joyful voice trailed off as the two men began walking away. The young man seemed to smile and give a slight wave to me just as he left, though I wasn't sure if I imagined it. The sterile, white wall then lowered itself to block the window view once more, sealing my senses back inside the confines of my cell.

I felt my strength give away as my whole body sagged against my bonds. But I was still forced to stand in stiletto heels with my legs spread, still helplessly bound by the steel frame, and still endlessly aroused by the vibrators inside me.

All I could do was sob like the pitiful slave I was.

I was being sold to a man who could now dictate my future at his whim, yet my feminine body couldn't help but feel warm anticipation between my legs, along with a throbbing desire to be owned by him.

Chapter 3 - Product Customization

The night after I was shown to my buyer, the doctor returned to my cell alongside two muscular men. With a beaming smile and a rub of his hands, he announced to me:

"Congratulations, slave! You've been sold to that man earlier for five million in US dollars! He must be quite taken with you. And to think that your master would be an attractive, fit young fellow. Don't you feel lucky slave?"

I didn't feel lucky at all. My only thought was that I wanted to lay down and feel that man's touch. After another whole day of being teased I didn't care if he was buying me illegally. I just wanted to cum so badly, to have him own and fuck me!

My moan came with a frustrated if begrudging assent, which was apparently enough for the system as it didn't shock me. Then, with a wave from the doctor, his two aides stepped forward and began releasing me from my imprisoning frame. I couldn't take my eyes off their bulging biceps or their narrow abs as they worked around me. Their male scent seemed overpowering, and I was so horny that I wouldn't have minded... perhaps part of me even wished... that they would gangraped me right there.

As my wrists came loose, a part of me recognized that this was my only chance in weeks to escape. But what chances did I have, when my body stood exhausted and sore after a day of teasing, all while I was flanked by two muscular hunks?

I should at least be grateful that the chip behind my head doesn't seem to read detailed thoughts. Otherwise, it would surely have shocked me.

The last restraint -- the steel waist band locked around my corset -- came loose. The two men then gripped my arms and lifted me off the twin intruders impaling my crotch. I moaned as the long, penetrating dildos pulled out of me. They had been inside me for so long my nether regions now felt empty without them.

I staggered forward into the strong arms of the two men. My feet teetered on their high heels for another moment before strength left my body completely. I crumbled into the men's waiting arms like a doll with strings cut. Even my attempts to move my arms came to no effect.