Dream Factory

Authors notes: The following is supposed to take place in a dream, meaning normal logic and laws of physics don't apply. Though now that I think about it the title is also a bit of wordplay, something I didn't realize at first. Funny how that works.

Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fiction. Fiction (in case you don't know) means it's made up, not real, a bunch of lies. The characters in the story are all fictional too, meaning they don't exist. While non-existent, if they existed and had an age they would be over 18.

Furthermore, since the characters aren't real they can't possibly be harmed by the stuff they do or that happens to them in the story. This would not be true in reality, meaning you should not think you can do the same things safely, legally, or ethically in real life. Just because bullets bounce off Superman (he's fictional) that doesn't mean they're going to bounce off you, got it? If you believe that the things fictional characters do in a pornographic story are a valid guide to behavior in the real world, then you have much bigger psychological problems than a story could ever cause and you should stop reading this and seek medical help immediately.

You're a male visitor walking through an automated factory when you accidently set off the machinery. Robotic arms come at you. You back away but other arms are already behind you, they quickly seize you by the wrists and ankles and yank you off your feet. The ones grabbing your limbs are like manacles, a larger one zips in and fits around your neck like a steel collar. You're suspended in midair, completely helpless.

New robotic arms flit in, these with manipulators which tug and pull at your clothing, strong enough to pop the buttons off your shirt and rip open your fly. They don't hurt you, not even when new arms tipped with sharp blades appear and begin to slide between your skin and your clothes. Cold metal and fear bringing goosebumps to your skin before the blades pull outward, slicing your sleeves and trouser legs. Then once the arms take these away the blades go on to part your socks and boxers as well so that every bit of your apparel is gone and you are completely naked.

You've been shouting (and sometimes screaming) for help the whole time, but at this point an arm unexpectedly jams the tip of a big gel capsule the size of a cucumber into your open yelling mouth. You automatically bite down, your teeth easily slicing through, but now you discover the gel is sticky and immediately begins to harden. You can't spit it out or force it out with your tongue, it's stuck in the front half of your mouth, covering your tongue and gluing your teeth shut. Even though you can still swallow and breathe and even make muffled noises you can't talk or call out.

The captor arms change you into a prone position and carry you off past humming robotic machinery, heading deeper into the factory . You're brought into a new room with porcelain walls from which snaky-looking metal hoses writhe. You feel one of them squirt a thick slimy lubricant over your ass, next another snake worms its way past your tight anal sphincter. Immediately you feel the flow of warm fluid filling you up. You groan through the gel gag from the pressure as the hose keeps working its way deeper and deeper as it pumps, forcing fluid inside until your abdomen bulges and you're cramping and think you're about to burst. Then the flow reverses and you're emptying rapidly, suctioned out as the hose withdraws.

The hose finally emerges from your ass - which leaves you feeling strangely empty and hollow - but that isn't the end of the process. A wider bulb-tipped hose pushes its way inside and gives you another enema, this time with a fluid which feels much thicker, not watery but more like pudding. This stuff tingles and makes you shiver uncontrollably, followed by flashes of heat. You feel very odd and wonder what sort of chemicals or hormones are being pumped into your intestines. This enema isn't sucked out like the other was, the tube is removed but the thick compound is left inside you to work. Your shivering stops but you still feel intermittent hot flashes as well as tingles deep in your abdomen.

The arms now carry you along to another room where they stretch you out in an upright X, arms and legs wide. Different arms come out of the walls, these bearing buzzing heads that you realize are electric razors only when you see big swatches of hair fall from your head. Your bare scalp prickles as it's shaved smooth, but the razors don't stop there and continue down to shave away your armpit and crotch hair as well. You cringe as the razors buzz against your testicles, but there's no actual pain. Afterward any loose hair left is vacuumed away by nozzles.

Then it's off to the next room, where differently-shaped nozzles emerge and begin spewing orange foam over every inch of you. Before it reaches your face your head is jerked up by the collaring arm and two cup-shaped black plastic covers are fitted over your eyes. There's a tremendous flash, so strong it leaks under the edges of the eye covers; when they're removed you see that, with the single exception of your eyelashes, every single hair left on your body by the razors has been incinerated to ash. Furthermore your skin is burning, you feel as if the orange stuff somehow penetrated into your pores and all your hair follicles have just been burned out including the roots.

New, narrower nozzles now come out of the walls and you're sprayed with jets of water and foam, and arms with soft-bristled brushes scrub every crevice of your body, followed by jets of warm air that quickly dry you. Something warm and sticky is jammed down on your bare scalp. Looking at your reflection in the gleaming metal of a nearby machine you see that a long blonde wig has just been glued on, one that gives you a youthful feminine hairstyle.

Rubberized clamps fit to your head and lock it into place, after which small spray-guns rise up and address your face. When you're able to open your eyes again you see that your face has been airbrushed with lipstick, rouge, eyeshadow and eyeliner, all in overly-bold colors giving your face a very female (and rather whore-like) appearance. This "makeup" however looks and feels permanent or nearly so, you're quite positive this isn't something you could wipe off no matter how hard you try.

All during this time you've been working on the long sticky gag in your mouth, trying to dislodge it. The material has warmed and gotten more flexible, rather like a giant gummy bear between your teeth and extending half-way to your tonsils, but one you can't bite through; in that way it's more like a gel dildo than a gummy bear. However like a gummy bear it seems to be slowly (very slowly) dissolving on your tongue. There's a salty-sweet flavor to it, the taste is like nothing you can think of though not unpleasant. Despite the slow dissolution your teeth are still firmly cemented together with no sign this will change soon.

Two hollow domes that remind you of steel half-cantaloupes are lifted into view. They approach your chest and carefully seal into place, one centered over each of your nipples. There's a feeling of strong suction, it's as though a pair of powerful vacuum cleaners are trying to suck the skin up off your chest. This is uncomfortable, but what follows next is painful, it feels as if the insides of the metal cups suddenly grow hundreds of tiny needles and every one of them is jabbing your flesh. Your robot captor doesn't allow you to pull away and you shriek into the sticky gag as the pain in your chest changes to a feeling that the skin under the cups is stretching like taffy.

The cups pull away. You look down; to your shock you see that you now have C-cup tits. And definitely not flabby man-boobs, you have a pair of well-shaped, womanly breasts that you would think very sexy-looking if they weren't attached to you.

In the very last step in this room your legs are jerked even farther apart and you feel something cold clamp around your dick and balls. You look down and see several wicked-looking needles moving into position around the base of your penis. You sense of panic doubles and you struggle violently but uselessly against the metal arms, because you've heard enough about the factory process to know what's about to happen. Tiny biomech valves are going to be injected into the blood vessels leading to your male organ, valves which will automatically find the correct spot and attach. They will override your body's natural reflexes, meaning that once they are in place your penis will remain as sensitive as ever but won't be able to get erect no matter what. Even worse, after a few weeks the biovalves will become part of you, not even surgery will be able to remove them without destroying your dick!

The needles find the right spots and pierce your skin. You shut your eyes and try to scream "No!" but only a muffled groan comes through the gag. There's an instant of hot pain, then the needles are gone, the clamp holding your manhood is removed, and you're being dragged back up and carried off to the next area.

You reach a larger, more open room and are lifted up, twenty feet or more off the ground. The arms fastened to your limbs shift you to a place where six feet below you is a stretched plastic sheet, like a trampoline but bigger and sagging in the middle. At the center there's a fairly large hole.

The captor arms flip you over so you're face up. You watch as a small, silver arm with a smooth sphere at the tip descends from the distant ceiling and approaches your stomach. You wonder what on earth this new arm does. It lightly touches your flesh at about the level of your navel. Suddenly you convulse, the innocent-looking little globe has sent a strong electric shock into you which paralyzes all your muscles and makes you go limp. In the same instant the captor arms release you and you fall helplessly toward the plastic sheet.

You land and flop like a rag doll, automatically sliding downward because the sheet gives under your weight. Despite appearances it's not at all like a trampoline but much less taut, in seconds you slide down until you're in the exact center. Now the sheet sags even more, the rim contracting so that instead of being in the center of a sagging sheet you're at the bottom of a bag, one with a hole right in the end which is just about the size of your butt.

Gravity makes your rear automatically slip through the opening, you can feel your buttocks descend into vacancy as the rubbery sheet continues to sag under your weight. By this time your muscles are recovering and you flail around, trying to grab something. Your wild actions only serve to cause your butt to sink deeper through the hole. Though now you can feel the hole doesn't lead to empty space but into some sort of loose sleeve below the sheet, which your rear is now sliding into like a finger into a glove .

Next what seems to be gallons of some clear fluid the consistency of cooking oil is dumped into the sheet with you and everything becomes even more slippery, almost frictionless. Not only your ass but your hips start sinking through the hole, you struggle and flail but it's still only making you slip down faster. Despite anything you can do you're sliding down through the hole in the sheet, ass cheeks leading, followed by your hips, then your torso and thighs which fold together to fit. You slow yourself down at that point by spreading your arms and lower legs out on the surface of the sheet but it's just too slippery to fully stop the process and soon you're sinking further through the hole into the narrow sleeve, your face at the level of your knees, your arms and lower legs forced above your head, your brand new set of tits squashed against your kneecaps.

When your head passes through the hole you see that the sleeve you're entering is some sort of clear plastic sheath. Unable to slow yourself now you drop down rapidly a few feet until your leading edge, your oiled butt, hits an obstruction and you stop. You realize you've dropped into a soft, flexible tube that's closed at one end, almost like a giant condom, though much thicker and sturdier; maybe more like a huge sausage casing. More oil spills down from the opening above and you struggle, afraid you're about to drown. You soon find that in your new folded position you have no leverage at all and no way to gain a purchase on the slippery sheath around you, you can't even change position. However instead of accumulating the oil seems to be absorbing into the sheath around you, it becomes more pliable but at the same time it's shrinking, molding itself closely to your body. You try to flex your arms and legs and find that the sheath is much stronger than it looks, all you can do is sort of writhe, making your body and the surrounding sheath bounce around where it's hanging.

A large robotic arm comes into view, heading for the junction where your sheath joins to the sheet you slid through earlier. It clamps around it and begins an odd shuffling motion; it's sealing and tightening the other end of the "condom." Now it's definitely more like a close-fitting sausage casing, and the sausage filling is you. Even after it's completely closed you can still breath, even though the membrane surrounding you is skin-tight now.

The arm snips off the casing and carries it and you away into yet another part of the factory. Here it attaches your casing to a rack by the recently-sealed end. You're dangling there, your lowest part a good four feet off the floor, the oily casing clinging to your skin in many places, being molded particularly close to your back and ass, thighs and forearms.

In this position you're completely helpless. You try wriggling to see if you can effect your situation in any way. But you can't, all that happens is that your casing sways back and forth on the hanger where it's suspended. With nothing else you can do you start pushing on the gag again. The strange flavor has been coming off it this whole time, all the saliva you've had to swallow has been laced with it, but now as you actively work your tongue and lips over the gel mass it happens faster. You're sucking the salty-sweetness down into your belly and you feel your insides grow warm in response. The warmth seems to be helping you relax but at the same time you find yourself craving the flavor, you suck harder trying to extract it from the long, thick rod filling your mouth.

You hang there for a time you can't begin to estimate, you have no idea if its minutes or hours, sucking and swallowing the whole time. You're feeling very odd again, the hot flashes are back and more than that the stuff in your intestines almost seems to be fizzing or electric or something. The strange physical sensations are very distracting meaning you can't really maintain any sort of train of thought, at least that's what you blame the problem on. You have the feeling there are other "sausages" around you in the dim room but you can't see them.

Finally you hear voices, male voices, approaching. They come into view, a quartet of workmen in coveralls and white bump caps, the first humans you've seen in the factory. You make muffled noises at them through the gel gag, trying to explain that it's a mistake, you're just a visitor and they need to free you so you can get medical help to remove the biovalves that are even now becoming part of your flesh. One of them walks up to you and gives your dangling bottom-cheeks a hard slap through the casing; you give a strangled yelp and struggle, setting your casing to dancing on its rack. They all laugh.

"Here's a nice active one, let's use it for quality control," the man who'd spanked your ass suggests. The others chuckle and agree. One of them hits a control and the rack begins lowering your casing, the other workers take hold and push you and the device you hang from toward a nearby table. They lower you onto the table so that you're now lying on your side though you're still helplessly encased in the plastic sheath.

One of them produces a box cutter from a pocket and walks around behind you with it in his hand. You give out a high-pitched whimper of fear but he's done this before, probably many times, and he opens your casing neatly over your asshole without even nicking you. You hear the sound of a zipper and try to object, to plead, but you know it's no use, you're nothing but an object to these men, something to be used.

You feel something warm and blunt pushed against your anus, the only part of you no longer covered by the casing. Your skin is still slick with the oil that had been poured over you, so it doesn't take long at all for the workman to force his cock all the way in, he's up to his balls inside your virgin ass. He bangs you hard, slapping your rear cheeks through the casing as he does so, and you can't do a thing to stop him, you can only lie there on your side and whimper as he fucks you up the ass, as helpless as any girl being raped, no, even more helpless.

After he spurts his load into you the next one steps up and repeats the process. His hands roam over your casing while he screws you, prodding and fondling your smooth and newly-hairless flesh through the skin-tight sheath, and despite yourself you begin to experience the sensation of your oily flesh sliding against the casing under his hands as erotic, a feeling like the caress of a lover. You notice that your new breasts are shuddering and bouncing each time his hips slap against your butt, the novelty of the feeling is odd but incredibly compelling and you start to gasp and moan as the hard penis drives in and out, faster and faster until it pulses and fills you with a second load of spunk.

It's not over, of course, there are two more men to satisfy. The third pushes his cock inside your now well-stretched asshole in one smooth motion, and as he works away, pleasuring himself, you find yourself undeniably aroused. The hot flashes and tingling deep inside you noted previously are much more intense now. You also start getting the feeling of tenseness that in the past preceded an erection, but the biovalves are definitely working, your dick gets more sensitive, feels like it's about to grow to an impressive size, it even starts to lubricate - but you stay as limp as a wet noodle.

You groan and pant, desperately wanting some sort of relief or resolution to the waves of sexual feelings that are raging uncontrollably inside you. The man using you finishes himself off and pulls out, leaving you horny and frustrated. The final member of the group steps up, this one has the biggest cock yet and you grunt as he forces his huge steel-stiff rod home. But soon the massive penis is sliding rhythmically in and out of your shuddering, clenching ass, and to your surprise and delight you feel what is unmistakably the beginnings of an orgasm. Your own cum is rising in your balls even though your dick can't get hard, and without meaning to you begin milking the plundering cock with your ass muscles. You moan and whimper, trying to urge on your lover, you need him to fuck you even harder so you can cum, but you're not in control, you're completely at the mercy of these men. Even though you get oh so close, right to the very edge of an orgasm, you don't reach your climax before the man using you finishes pumping every last drop of seed he has deep into your rear tunnel.

"Definitely good quality," this last one says as he pulls out, leaving semen dripping from your gaped fuckhole. A hose from the table is inserted into your ass and you receive a third enema, this one quite small, just enough to wash out the male cum that's been pumped into you by the group. Then another device is produced and used to seal up the opening they'd made in your casing, and you're hung back up on the rack.