PETS AND BIMBOS
by GORD


Part Two of the 2477AD Saga

CHAPTER ONE
IN THE BAG
True to her promise, Major Cunningham traced John’s new woman within the
week. Less than two days later, a Ringer'd, fuming ex-fiance appeared at
SAC-94. Silent rage twisted her pretty face, and although she
desperately wanted to vent her wrath on her captors, the brank and the
rigours of the Ringer frame held her silent and impotent as she glared
venomously at all who ventured near.
Suddenly the expression changed from rage to a look of disbelief, then
finally dissolved to a mask of fear. Walking towards her, smiling
grimly, was the very same pet-toy she had ridiculed and abused at the
Hyperstore. a
Tammy halted in front of the helpless bundle of womanhood, and with
hands on hips stared down with undisguised glee.
“Pet-slut am I?” She asked, rocking the hogtied bitch with her foot. “I
wonder what they'll be calling you when I've finished training you to be
my pet?”
Carol, the self-same hogtied bitch, felt an icy fear creep through her
body as she realised that her present captivity had been requested by
John's ex wife. With a deepening sense of doom, she cast her mind back
to the incident in the Hypermarket when she had taken full advantage of
fammy’s helpless Walker'd plight to ridicule and torment the
pathetically displayed woman. The outlook for her future seemed bleak
indeed. Just how bleak she could never have envisaged in her wildest
nightmares.
The next three months were pre-planned. Tammy's vengeance took the form
of basic, general purpose (GP) pleasure girl training. This was followed
by an intensive, condensed course in bondage slavery, the exact nature
of which had been carefully planned to prepare Carol the bitch for her
role as Tammy's personal pet.
Unfortunately for Carol, no-one had a better insight into the ultimate
humiliation of womanhood than one who had already plumbed its depths.
Worse still, Tammy had a highly inventive mind to aid her in planning
the downfall of her most hated enemy.
With her rigorous, unique, and downright painful training behind her,
Carol was almost looking forward to her release into the hands of her new
owner. Anything had to be an improvement on the horror of SAC-94! But it
was not to be.
Frozen to minus 183 degrees, Carol found herself suffering a new and
more devastating torment as her mind was reshaped to a program specified
by Tammy.
For a month she remained silent and solidly frozen in her terrible
prison of sub zero hell, as the computers restructured her most personal
thought patterns.
She was fully aware of the process, but unable to resist the powerful
imprints of her new programming.
At the end of the fourth month all was complete. The woman known as Carol
had ceased to exist. In her place was a numbered female object who would
perform faithfully any task asked of her by her new owner. Tammy proudly
collected her new acquisition, and with grateful thanks to the staff of
SAC-94, whom she had come to know on a friendly basis, she led her
helplessly Walker'd toy out into a future of endless retribution.


CHAPTER TWO
EXIT CAROL, ENTER BIMBO

Tammy appeared first through the part open door, and both Brigette and
Brenda paused in their chat and turned to watch as Tammy led in her new
possession.
Seeing she had their attention, she turned and tugged at the lead.
“Come Bimbo, there's a good dog!”
Two mouths sagged open in disbelief as the full impact of Tammy's wrath
came into view. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” murmured Brenda
as the impossible apparition of ultimate humiliation waddled across the
floor. 
“Meet Bimbo! My new doggie!” announced the beaming Tammy. “She's fully
house trained so she won't mess on the carpets, but I have to be careful
to keep her away from the men. She's permanently on heat you see,
although I'm thinking of having her spayed.”
Two speechless officers stared at the once snooty, self opinionated
bitch that had been John’s ex-fiance. A tear of shame ran down the
trussed girl's face as she was presented in such a staggeringly
humiliating way.
It was amazing that Tammy's specified training had actually worked.
Neither of the watching officers had known what it was for. Until now!
Although straight and erect, the poor woman was reduced to some three
feet high and actually walking on her knees. Her lower legs had ceased
to exist and were concealed in immensely tight rubber devices that held
her knees excruciatingly doubled, with calves and thighs welded into a
single stumpy appendage. The knee end of the device had a moulded pad
like a dog’s paw, which would prevent any wear and tear to the securing
tube of rubber.
Her arms were strained into a back prayer and squeezed tightly into
another gleaming rubber pouch behind her back, causing her breasts to be
thrust arrogantly forward. Such a device was rather an overkill if that
were its intention. The fittings adorning the woman's breasts were more
than ample for that. In fact, her breasts weren't just thrust forward,
but reshaped and altered to form ridiculous protrusions jutting from her
chest.
This boob shaper was a specially contoured bra device that forcibly
moulded her breasts into jutting mounds, probably five or six inches in
length. The outer ends of the device were truncated leaving holes some
two inches in diameter. Through these holes the extremities of the
unfortunate woman's breasts were extruded into small bulbous spheres of
tautly stressed skin, each topped with an empurpled, inflated, and
ringed nipple that looked ready to burst at the slightest provocation.
It was as if Tammy's pet had two inverted ice-cream cones stuck on her
chest, topped with pink ice-cream and a cherry for decoration. As an
added insult, Bimbo's rings were decorated with tinkling bells. In fact,
they were the same ones she had ridiculed only weeks before on the
trussed Tammy.
The foundation for the whole rig was a highly modified Walker, trimmed
down so as to be barely visible. But the modified device would still
ensure that complete control and punishment fac ties were available.
At the neck, the normal collar had been replaced by an incredibly high
trainer collar that held the head still and tilted slightly upwards in a
vise like grip. From this trailed a flexible control, fashioned to
resemble a dog lead. But nevertheless, it was just as effective in relaying commands to the 
electrodes in. ‘the Walker.
The collar gave way to a rubber encapsulated head which grew out of its
choking embrace. But it was not a human hea : a gross, canine caricature. 
The helmet had an open front. That is to say, the eyes and nose were
visible. But from there on there was no resemblance to the beautiful
face hidden below the hood. Little ears sprouted from. the top of the
device, and the mouth area was completely obliterated. Only the eyes
remained to convey the terrible, crushing humiliation of Bimbo's plight.
The Captain studied the leg folders, and was impressed by the design.
After effectively reducing Bimbo's legs to stumps, they then rose over
the hips and buttocks to form into a gleaming, black, bone crushing
cincher around her waist. A section was | missing at the centre, both
front and back, leaving both buttocks and pussy exposed. Bimbo's pussy
was stretched around a massive dildo that had been deliberately left
protruding for a couple of inches before being secured in place by the
thin strap | connected the cincher. Tammy obviously wanted everyone to
know that her pet was well plugged at both ends. The bulging cheeks of
the helmet left no doubt as to the extent of Bimbo's oral packing. 
At the rear, the Walker prod in her bottom had been extended outwards to
form a rigid tail simulating the shaved member of a poodle tail, ending
in a ridiculous round ball of fur. The damn thing even appeared to wag
as Bimbo waddled along.
“Well 266, you've certainly had your revenge on her, haven't you?”
Brigette chuckled. “I should say you're about even now, don't you think?”
Tammy shook her head and then looked down to the hideously humiliated
Bimbo.
“Oh! No! She humiliated me in public, and with your permission I'd
like to return the favour next time you take us into town. I want all
her ex friends to recognise the little doggie owned by
the pet-slut, as she so delightfully named me. By then I’ thought up
some more special effects for her to try.”
Tammy clucked her tongue and urged her doggie into motion. “Come Bimbo,
show the nice officers how good you are!”
Bimbo set off around the room led by a triumphant Tammy.
Revenge was sweet, and it was going to get much sweeter as time went by!
Soon she had Bimbo up to a slow trot. A truly amazing feat when so
restrained, but then Bimbo knew that she could expect no mercy from the
woman she had ridiculed.
The art of accomplishing this amazing feat was to maintain an
arched-back form, which was the complete opposite of the natural
reaction to bend at the waist in the expectation of a fall; ~ assuming
the Walker would allow her to bend. However, once mastered, the
technique had the effect of projecting the unfortunate doggie’s bottom
outwards in blatant display. Once induced to walk, or rather waddle,
the bottom began to perform
like a demented jelly. A most degrading sight for a woman to be forced
to exhibit.
Tammy had made sure that her pet was fully aware of the rear view by
Vid-filming the sight and replaying it repeatedly; to Bimbo's
everlasting shame and humiliation.
Panting with exertion, Bimbo continued her circuit of the room, her
monstrously extruded breasts swinging and bouncing like wild things as
the bells jingled mockingly at her demise.
Two house servants appeared carrying a large kennel, and seeing it
positioned at the far side of the room, Tammy led her doggie over.
“In Bimbo, In,” she instructed. Bimbo waddled into her new home.
Tammy turned her and ordered her to Sit! Bimbo sat on her heels and
looked beseechingly up at her tormentor. But Tammy
showed no pity as she fastened the lead to the kennel and went back over
to kneel before the clapping officers.
“Fantastic,” praised Captain Sommes, leaning forward to caress her
breasts. “Tell me, how long does it take to get her walking like that?”
“About two weeks Ma'am,” answered Tammy, delighted that her owner was
taking such and interest in her new hobby.
“Oh! Good, then I can have you ready in time for SAC’s annual gala ball!”
Tammy was stunned as the impact of this statement sank in. She herself
was going to experience the very same humiliation she had so carefully
engineered for her enemy.
“Don't worry,” consoled Brigette. We'll never let Bimbo know you copied
her scene. It's just between us. I can't let such a devastating idea go
to waste. It'll be the talk of the town for years.
“But Ma’am please. Not that! Not me! Please.” Tammy pleaded in vain.
In fact her continued protestations were angering the Captain and she
decided to put Tammy back in her place. Her place as a pet-slave was to
accept any assignment, no matter how humiliating, without question. This
pet was getting above its station. It was time she understood she was
just a body to do with as her owner wished. Deliberately Brigette spoke
in normal tones, audible to the kennelled Bimbo.
“Let's make it a real show Brenda.” She said turning to her friend.
“What say we train 187 and Blondie as well. We can go with matching
pairs. I'll take 266 and Bimbo; and you can have the other pair.”
Blondie had only recently been rescued from the FT unit by a smart piece
of skulduggery. Now it looked as if she may well opt for a reinstatement
of her de-animated state.
Brenda instantly agreed, and looking across to her kennelled pet, Tammy
perceived the slightest hint of satisfaction in the eyes.
Bitch! She'd get even, that was for sure, she thought, turning back to her mistress.
But Captain Sommes relented, and dropping her voice for the benefit of
Tammy only, she stroked her head as she spoke.
“Tell you what pet. Do the gala on for me without any fuss and I'll let
you take Bimbo to town on your own.”
Tammy was silent for a moment, not in thought but in shock. It had never
occurred to her that she would ever walk the streets again without a leash.
“You mean, that? You'd let me go out alone?” The Captain nodded.
“Of course 266. But remember you'll still be Walker’d, although with
your hands free. I'll insist on you wearing your normal
walking out rig, helmet as well.” She smiled as if reading ~ Tammy's
thoughts.
“Remember you're tagged and coded, so I'll always know where you are and
I can operate the Walker by remote control if I see you out of
designated areas. With the new Walker I'll even be able to hear what's
going on around you.”
Tammy felt somewhat deflated. She'd still be under control; and if she
were helmeted, and the helmet locked on, there was no way she'd be able
to talk to anyone.
Suddenly the disappointment lifted as she realised that in fact it would
enhance Bimbo's humiliation. If she herself were attired as an owned
pet, her own pet's position would be that much lower in the eyes of
onlookers.
She looked back at Bimbo and cringed at the humiliating spectacle soon
to be her own at the gala ball. Then, after a moment's consideration of
the options, she slowly nodded agreement to the Captain.
Tammy had already decided to do the gala on her own. The lure of having
Bimbo reduced to grovelling subservience on a public street had been too
strong to ignore.
Things were indeed looking up. Bimbo would be the best behaved doggie
ever to be seen. After the gala, a supremely pleased owner would be much
more liable to allow her some spending credits. Bimbo was going to the
pet shop to choose some new finery, and at the same time she could have
her spayed
with the new ultra-sound device. She'd still be a bitch on heat for the
rest of her life, but at least there wouldn't be the risk of puppies at
sometime in the future.
Tammy had heard that the spaying procedure was being demonstrated at
Pets Corner to promote the new device. Bimbo would be cringing with
embarrassment as her womanhood was publicly removed for ever.
The Captain's voice brought her back from her daydreams. 7 “But you'd
better be good at the gala. I don’t want to see you stumble or go down
off your knees all night, and there will be a few special doggie actions
for you to perform as well.”
Tammy wasn't at all sure about this, but then what did she have to lose.
Do the gala willingly and she earned the treat of
humiliating Bimbo even more. Refuse or be awkward, and she still had to
do it without the treat!


CHAPTER THREE
THE GALA

It was the big night of the year for SAC personnel, a night when rank
had no meaning, and lowly privates mixed with high ranking Colonels,
Majors, Captains, and various VIPs from the judicial system. For many
hundreds of years now, the old class system had been a thing of the
past. The exception was, of course, women. There were the privileged
free women, and the
others. The others were normally pets or prisoners, if they weren't LPGs.
Gala night was therefore a night to strengthen the right of privilege by
displaying one’s pets and enhancing another's. perceived impression of
one’s status; and indeed, immunity from the dreadful plight of
ninety-five percent of the female population!
It appeared the more beautiful the pet, the higher in social circles one
stood in order to have acquired such a desirable object. This was then
furthered by the degree of control, either by training, or the device
being used on the poor pet-toy.
Radio control was by now a common method used by many owners.
Transceiver implants could control a pet at the touch of a button.
Movement and sound sensors could be energised, and would punish the
unfortunate wearer severely with electrical shocks to the tender, inner
sanctums of the lower body if she moved or made a sound after being
programmed to stand as a statue. With the implant system, however, it
was possible to. have a naked pet, clad only in belt and high heeled
shoes, under
complete control with no visible sign of restraint. They could be
steered and made to perform all sorts of intriguing acts without any
indication that they were powerless to refuse. It was nice to watch a
tall, statuesque woman, probably a society debutante scant months
before, suddenly bend over or lie on the floor and begin to frig herself
with a massive vibrator. Only the tears of frustrated humiliation would
give any clue to the fact that she was suffering every minute of her
public degradation. Recognition of the woman as a once free,
high-flier made the whole thing that much more enjoyable to watch!
Such unfortunate women were usually programmed for a different task once
the evening warmed up. On all fours they would tour the room giving oral
satisfaction to all the guests, both male and female, whilst they
chatted and laughed.
Walker's of various designs were another form of control. Everyone used
these two methods of control, and by now they were hardly a novelty.
Furniture invariably was of the feminine variety, the stand-up buffet
tables were popular with everyone, both male and female. It was most
interesting to hold a conversation with your partner whilst being
serviced by your table! For the male party-goers, it meant that one
could enjoy the sensation of having ones throbbing manhood buried deep
into one of the two holes on offer. Meanwhile, your female partner on
the other side of the table could be titillated simultaneously by the
same captive's busy mouth,
Most of the female guests wore long evening gowns equipped with a small
zippered aperture at crotch height. The opening was large enough to
accept a head and then be zipped tight around the captive’s throat. Such
an arrangement prevented any loss of modesty whilst being attended to by
the trussed pet-toy.
‘Soon the party was in full swing, and everyone, with the exception of
the hardworking pet-toys was having a fine old time. All buffet tables
were in full use, and no sooner had one couple or group moved, than
another would eagerly snatch the spot and
take full advantage of the vacated services supplied by the helpless human table.
Suddenly the hubbub of conversation died down, only to be replaced by
gasps of admiration. Captain Sommes had entered the room bedecked in her
finest dress uniform. It was not the uniform, however, that was the
focus of all attention.
Tammy waddled obediently behind her mistress, her heavily trussed body
shimmering with incandescent splendour.
Not happy to merely reduce her pet-toy to a dog-parody, Brigette had
designed a set of restraints entirely from a glistening, golden
rubber. Any areas left uncovered by the rig had been coated with golden
body paint. The result was a gilded pet of extraordinary beauty.
A jerk on the lead brought Tammy back from her shock at being presented
in such a way, and remembering the instructions of her owner, she tried
to speak past the huge device stretching her mouth. 
Instantly, the miracle of electronic wizardry filling her oral cavity
converted all sounds to a series of yapping barks that had the
appreciative crowd roaring with laughter. The barks immediately
triggered another marvel of the modern age buried deep in her anal tube,
producing a realistic wagging motion to the poodle tail inserted in
Tammy's bottom.
And so, Tammy followed her owner on a round of social niceties, barking
and wagging like an enthusiastic pooch whenever her mistress demanded.
She was petted and patted by all at the slightest opportunity; made to
sit, bark, and even jump through a paper covered hoop like a trained
circus dog.
But this was a minor trauma compared to the show that Brigette and
Brenda had planned for later. Mid evening drew near, and walking her pet
to a low mounted set of stocks brought in earlier by two other pets,
Brigette instructed Tammy to lean forward and insert her neck into the
lower half.
No sooner was this done, than the Captain swung the upper half closed
and locked it in position. Tammy was securely fixed

Seconds later Tammy was writhing and straining against her restraints as
the huge penis burrowed into her protesting love nest. Onward and
inwards the monster speared; stretching, plundering, and plummeting into
her innermost sanctity.
Blondie’s upper thighs smacked into Tammy's buttocks, and her breasts
flattened against her upper back. Then, as they both struggled vainly to
gain release, several snap-links clicked as they were welded together. A
lead trailing from the device on Blondie’s back was dragged to a power
point, and amid cheers of encouragement from the crowd, was plugged in
and the switch thrown.
Instantly Tammy screamed into her gag as the Wolf-thing on her back
began to shaft her with powerful thrusting drives, and she felt Blondie
react to some other torment she was not in a position to see. Curdling
howls came from Blondie’s mouth as another of those devilish, electronic
oral-gismo's converted her cries of distress to canine cries of ecstasy.
Powerless against the mechanised strength of her back mounted device,
Blondie was forced to ravish her partner like a lust enraged canine
covering a bitch on heat! On and on she pumped, the motorised unit
hidden in her back passage wagging the big furry tail in frenzied swings
of mock enjoyment as the howls of anguish continued from her gaping
mouth. A control was turned and, unable to resist, Blondie’s pelvic
gyrations became rapid and frenzied, jolting and even lifting Tammy's
whole torso with the force of each thrusting insertion. The object of
her attack reacted with a horribly unwanted rise to orgasmic explosion
as she was publicly taken, ‘doggie fashion’.
Tammy found she could not resist the stimulation of having her love lips
so hugely stretched, or for that matter the immensely pleasurable
sensation produced as that monstrous phallus crashed in and out. At the
same time, her unwilling rapist was suffering similar torment as the
doubled ended device wrought havoc within the mounting socket of her own
pussy.
The evening wore on as the pair endlessly entertained the assembled
guests with their display of doggie antics. Whilst
beneath the labouring duo, the carpet became stained and glistening with
the outpouring of two overworked sex mouths as
the girls copious love juices dribbled in streamers from their pulsing
pussies!
For the two pet-toys it was a long and traumatic evening. But for the
guests, it was a night to remember, to be talked about for many months
in the various tea rooms of the privileged minority.


CHAPTER FOUR
A TRIP TO TOWN

Tammy deliberately took the route that would take her through her old
neighbourhood, knowing that it was highly likely she might see John at
this time of day, returning home from work. She was not disappointed. As
they rounded the corner of the street where she'd lived, John pulled up
in a Hover-car.
Bimbo spotted her former lover and baulked as she was directed towards
him. Two short surges of energy from the prod in Bimbo's bottom soon had
her waddling towards him with tears of frustration and humiliation
coursing down her cheeks.
John straightened and turned to go into the house, then paused as the
strange duo came into his vision. At first his thoughts were simply they
were someone's pets. Then, as they made their way directly towards him,
he took a more careful look.
There was something about the rig of the woman holding the leash of that
pathetically converted pet-toy, and her eyes. Yes! Her eyes!
He knew those big ‘come to bed eyes’: It was the girl from the
Hypermarket pet park. He waited as they approached until finally the
waddling pet thing was brought to a halt by a jerk on her leash.
John studied the woman controller at length as she stood staring
straight into his eyes. It was the pet woman from the Hypermarket, and
with a strengthening conviction, John knew that his first impressions
had been right after all. It was Tammy.
Converted, trained, controlled, lewdly exhibited, but it was still | Tammy!
“It is you, isn’t it?” he asked.
Tammy nodded, then as John reached up to turn the jaw stretching winder
down and remove her gag, she shook her head. It was pointless. The
device was electronically locked after being adjusted and any attempt to
remove it would trigger the prod in
her bottom, which would stay active until Captain Sommes’ retrieval team
arrived to collect her,
They just stood looking at each other; so close now and yet a million
miles of mechanised control between them.
_ Suddenly the impasse was broken as a well-groomed woman
appeared at the door of the house, and came hurrying towards them. SO
“What is it John? Whose pets are those?”
John turned, and after a moment's hesitation, he introduced the
pet-object that had once been his wife.
“Miriam, it’s Tammy. She's come back,” Miriam's hands flew up to her
cheeks as a look of pity shaped her face.
“Oh! My God, what have they done to you?” Miriam looked shocked, at a
loss for words as she took in the pitifully converted woman. Then a look
of concern spread across her face,
“Oh! You poor thing. Come! Come inside off the street and let's see
what we can do.”
She led the way as Tammy and her obedient pet moved towards the house,
and Bimbo desperately tried to hide her face as John stared at her
waddling figure.
“That's Carol isn't it?” He asked, a puzzled look on his face, Again
Tammy nodded, then indicated that she needed writing utensils as soon as
they entered the house. Miriam appeared from the study with the
requested items and Tammy began to write as the astounded couple watched.
“Carol recognised me at the Hyperstore and used the Walker prod to keep
me quiet. So I had my owner have her taken as a
subversive. She’s been trained as my personal pet as a reward for my good
service.”
“So that’s what happened to the bitch,” voiced Miriam as she read the
words. “Another few hours and I'd have had her Ringer’d as an NPG
myself.” Tammy looked across at the woman in surprise.
“Oh! Of course you wouldn't know, would you darling. John met me first
after you disappeared. He was warned to stop looking for you unless he
wanted to be responsible for having you ‘altered’ in a restructuring
unit, so eventually he had to give up.”
“Anyway, he met me and we started to go steady. It was very difficult at
first, because he missed you so much, but eventually a friend managed to
find out where you were and told him that you were in good hands, so
finally he started to let go of the strings.”
“I thought I was home and dry, then this bitch, Carol here!” Tammy
shook her head and scribbled on the pad for Miriam to see.
“Ha! Hal! Yes, very good, very apt,” agreed Miriam. “As I was saying
Bimbo here came along and started to move in on John. The next thing I
knew was when a gang of hired thugs abducted me and left me Ringer’d on
the pavement dressed in one of those Deviant-LPG rubber suits. I was
lucky. That night there was a fire at one of the receiving stations and
because of the backlog I was filed for three days until they could get
round to processing us all. By that time some very high up connections
had managed to locate me, and seeing as I hadn't been coded, they were
able to get me out after signing a waiver of any legal proceedings for
wrongful arrest.
“It was a close thing] can tell you, and three days on that Ringer frame
at maximum setting wasn't funny. They were so busy I was even left in
the suit all the time, hood and blow-up gag, inflatable dildos front
and back, the complete rig in fact. I'll never know how those deviants
can stand being dressed like that all the time. Besides, that bitch had
instructed the gang to blow
everything up to maximum, and then some! I was stuffed and gagged to
bursting point, not to mention that the inside of the suit had been
treated with some sort of itching agent.”
Miriam glared at Bimbo as she relived those terrible days in her mind,
and Bimbo turned her eyes guiltily away.
“Yes you bitch, and I'll not forget the Subversive/FT you had written on
my forehead. I could have been frozen like that for
years.” Miriam glared a little longer then turned back to her audience.
“Anyway, a few days after I was released, I found out that Bimbo had set
up the whole thing to get rid of me, so I went after her. Trouble was,
she'd vanished. Now I know why,” she said smirking triumphantly at the
trussed pet who was now leaning
on John’s leg and rubbing her crotch suggestively against him.
Tammy gave the prod a press and Bimbo arched back then moved away with a
crestfallen look as Tammy began to write again.
“She's been trained as SS, ‘Super Screw’ that is, so she'll try to hump
anything in trousers at the slightest chance,” she wrote for | the
reading pair. “I'm taking her to be spayed as soon as I leave’ here, do
you want to come and watch?”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” beamed Miriam. “But what. about you?
We must do something to get you released, and out of that pet’s costume.” -
Tammy shook her head and wrote quickly, pausing occasion-_ ally to look
regretfully at her former husband.
“It’s too late, I can never go back now. I'm a pet, an officer's pet. I've
done things I would never have dreamed possible; and enjoyed doing
them. They awakened a part of me I never knew existed. Captain Sommes
owns me now.”
Tammy stopped writing and Miriam read the note out loud, although John
was reading for himself over her shoulder.
Suddenly Tammy started with surprise as the Captain's voice sounded in
her ear. At the same time she remembered that she
was wired and the Captain could hear anything going on around her. Until
now she hadn't even considered the possibility that her helmet also had
a built-in earphone.
“266! Write this for them to read. First my Vid-phone number
AZZ-24388-XX, then tell them that I’m loaning you to them for the
weekend for any purpose they desire. You are to remain Walker'd and as
soon as you finish writing this, put your wrists up and lock them into
the neck frame.”
Tammy was stunned. She was to be loaned back to her own husband and his
new wife as a pet-toy. She hesitated and voiced a muffled protest
through the gag. A short burst of the anal prod reminded her that she
was still under Brigette’s complete control. She began to write as John
and Miriam looked on, then completing the note, reluctantly raised her
arms and felt the clamps at the back of her neck snap shut.
Her weekend owners looked stunned, and Miriam not a little flushed as
she realised that Tammy was hers if John would agree, if only for one or
two days. Miriam herself was finding deeply suppressed desires rising in
her body. Meanwhile, John cast his mind back to the strong willed Tammy
he had known. A woman he'd sometimes wished would be more subservient.
Now she was forced to be subservient or suffer the consequences.


CHAPTER FIVE
THE WEEKEND

John’s day dreams broke as he realised that Miriam w: already on the
Vid-phone and talking to the mysterious Captain Sommes.
“Yes! Yes! I see; Oh! Fabulous, she can do that, really? How super!” The
conversation went on for several minutes, and with each passing minute
Tammy's heart sank lower as more of her specialist tricks were imparted
to the flushed Miriam. Mean-| while, John waddled Bimbo over to the
door, and using a piece of cord, fastened her nose ring to the door
knob. This left Bimbo stretched upwards from her knees and frantically
trying to maintain her balance as the door m« slightly on well oiled
hinges.
“Well now Bimbo. Not quite the stuck-up, self opinionated little tart
you were, are you?” he said, patting her head. “Stay there like a good
little doggie while the grown-ups get ready to take you for spaying.”
Bimbo's eyes pleaded for mercy, but none was forthcoming.
He turned as Miriam finished the call and came over, beaming all over
her face. She noticed Bimbo's rather excruciating position and her face
hardened.
“That will do for now, but when we get back I'm going to make sure that
Bimbo is secured in the most diabolically strenuous: and humiliating
set-up we can devise, and she can stay there all weekend just to level
the score. I kept all the gear she had me secured in. Somehow, I had a
feeling we'd meet again.”
Within half an hour they were ready. Miriam held Tammy's refitted Walker
rod and Bimbo was leashed to her owner by Tammy's collar.
Whilst waiting for John to get ready, Miriam had succumbed to her inner
desire to fondle a helpless woman. She had snapped Tammy's ankle links
together just to make sure she had no avenue of escape and then busied
herself squeezing and stroking the fettered woman's breasts and buttocks.
At first Tammy was resentful, but then as she felt Miriam's gliding
skilful hands, she began to warm to her. By the time John returned she
was already dripping with desire. Trembling and helpless, she locked
eyes with John and felt a momentary flush of shame as she stood, watched
by her former husband and being used by another woman. It was soon
forgotten as he moved forward and began to play with her nipples. Miriam
reached up and tightened the boob adjusters even more and reduced
Tammy's swelling orbs to purpled, ultra sensitive balls of vibrating
eroticism.
Tammy felt her knees going weak as this double assault crushed her
resistance. Silky smooth female hands were playing with her mons and
buttocks; whilst strong male hands fondled her breasts. Soon her
breath was short and laboured and body movements became intense as she
rose to a finale. But it was not to be. A sudden squawk of pain turned
their attention back to Bimbo. Her SS training could not be denied.
Watching Tammy's helpless plight had engineered a massive lustful
response in her own body and she had been humping the door edge in a
desperate attempt to relieve her need. The door had moved and left her
at an angle of forty-five degrees, supported by her nose ring. And
still she was humping, albeit in a semi suspended state! 
The spell was broken, and so Tammy was released and made ready for the
trip to town. With hands free, she could now hold Bimbo's lead as would
a real owner.
It was an interesting trip due to the fact that John and Miriam met many
friends on the way, both male and female. They
admired Tammy, and took great pains to ensure that the little doggie
Bimbo came in for some very heavy petting on all her exposed and offered
areas, much to the everlasting shame and humiliation of the fettered pet.
As soon as they touched her, the undeniable SS training rose to the
surface and she found herself humping and grinding against their legs.
If it was a female, she received a shock from the prod, but for males
Tammy allowed her to debase herself with a display of groaning and
grinding as she tried to massage her thrusting mound against their bodies.
Eventually the entourage arrived at Pets Corner and to the delight
of all, except Bimbo, they saw that the ultrasonic spaying machine was
installed in the window. Bimbo required some ten or twelve shocks before
her protests and struggles were quelled, but finally she waddled
dejectedly into the shop.
The shop owner was entranced. He'd seen many pets in his time, but
Bimbo's arrangement was unique. He was only too pleased to demonstrate
his machine on such a crowd drawing example, and without delay began to
prepare the device for use.
Miriam and Tammy released the doggie’s legs prior to mounting, and
Bimbo thought that maybe she's have a chance to escape. It was a forlorn
hope. After so long with her legs trussed into such a compressed shape,
they were virtually useless.
She struggled pitifully as she was carried forward and mounted with her
exposed nether regions towards the shop window, where already a huge
crowd was gathering to watch. Flexible steel restraining bands encircled
her already bound upper body and crushed her down tight into the moulded
base of the machine. Now her legs were splayed and secured by similar
bands, so that she was secured most efficiently in a kneeling posture
with back arched and rump stuck up.
The whole arrangement began to tilt, and Bimbo found herself being
up-ended until her buttocks were facing upwards at an angle of
forty-five degrees.
Bimbo's exposure to public scrutiny was horrendous, and it was about to
get worse. The shop owner moved a lever back, and Bimbo found her legs
being forcibly stretched wide apart, leaving her pouting pussy and
clenched anal ring totally vulnerable.
She squirmed and wriggled as the massive sonic probe slid forward and
nuzzled her sex tunnel, but to no avail. The probe moved remorselessly
onward, its huge bulk bulldozing into her defenceless opening and
stretching her pubic lips into a taut, quivering ring of twitching
flesh. Bimbo screamed into her gag and thrashed against her bonds; but
the monster continued its advance! Three, four, five inches; the probe
bored inwards, reaming her with effortless ease as it distended and
filled her succulent tube.
At eight inches the beast bottomed out against the neck of her womb, and
ceased its movement. Bimbo squirmed like a speared fish as the stiff
rubber spikes in its head snapped outward, locking it firmly inside her.
But the machine hadn't finished yet! A thin steel rod slid from the tip
of the huge invader searching first for her Fallopian tubes and then
continuing on into her furthest recesses until reaching her ovaries.
Bimbo's love tube contracted violently, gripping the huge girth of the
primary unit with vise-like pressure. Delicate electronic signals,
passing through the casing, controlled the muscles in her forcibly
expanded love nest. Her body was compelled to hold the beast firmly in
place and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
The fettered Bimbo snorted through flaring nostrils, each blast of
breath flipping her nose ring upwards as the realisation dawned on her
that there was no escape from the immense intrusion in her lower body.
A slight warming in her womb increased steadily as a sonic beam
destroyed the very roots of her womanhood. Moaning, begging, pleading,
Bimbo looked beseechingly towards Tammy as her reduction to a spayed pet
began in earnest. Tammy smiled triumphantly and instructed the operator
to set the machine for maximum duration; just to make sure!
“We may as well have a drink while we wait,” suggested the shop keeper.
“The operation takes about ten minutes to complete.” Bimbo died a
thousand deaths as she overheard the sentence of her prolonged public
humiliation. But she could do nothing as they left her alone and
displayed. Trussed and strapped as she was, she could only groan as she
was reduced still further to animal status by an efficient, unfeeling
machine.
The procedure ended and the machine switched off, but Bimbo was left for
a further twenty minutes as her tormentors sifted through various pet
training items in the shop. Behind her and out of sight, her stretched
buttocks and the inserted probe in her pussy were joined by a flashing
neon sign ensuring that all who were watching knew that she was now
totally infertile and as ‘such, a perfect sexual toy.
Eventually she was removed from the machine and her legs redoubled and
secured. Then as if this wasn’t sufficient trauma, the shop keeper
requested the final insult.
“Do you mind if I use Bimbo for some advertising?” he asked. Just a
stick-on sign advertising the new technique. Tammy readily agreed.
Within minutes Bimbo had a large adhesive sign stuck across her
abdomen announcing to the whole world that she was now infertile by
virtue of her mounting on the ATLAS II Spaying Machine, available only
from Pets Corner!
They spent several hours touring the town, and whilst Tammy was afforded
the privilege of going into the stores as a result of being unshackled,
Bimbo spent many miserable hours as an object of ridicule in the various
pet-parks.
She rued the day she had crossed swords with Tammy and Miriam, and now
all she had to look forward to was a weekend secured toa Ringer Frame
and stuffed with the very same devices she had arranged for another,
enclosed in that stifling Deviant LPG suit.
Alas, she was not disappointed. Within ten minutes of their return home,
Bimbo found herself fully ensconced in the ultra tight, clinging rubber
suit and suspended on her Ringer frame
from the living room ceiling. It was the first time any woman had ever
experienced such horrendous contortion. But then, Miriam
had used the intervening months to modify the frame, pending her
eventual meeting with the missing Carol.
Tammy had felt her confinement on a frame must have been the ultimate
when her toes actually brushed the back of her head. Bimbo had her feet
fully in contact. But this was of minor consequence. Now her major
concern was the triumphant look on Miriam's face as she pumped steadily
on the inflation pump.
Bimbo soon found herself host to a rock hard inflated oral bladder that
was threatening to explode and blow her head clean off. Even worse were
the two, Zeppelin sized inflated sausages nestling in her lower
orifices. She was sure that they were only one pump away from causing
the first tear that would run straight up her body and leave her as two
separate pieces.
But Miriam was yet to be satisfied. Nipple and clitoris weights soon
stretched Bimbo's nodules downwards in painful, elongated fingers of
tormented flesh.
She began the caning. No such luxury of hand slapping for this. bitch.
It was to be a long thin cane that assaulted her twitching nates.
Occasionally the cane would hit one or the other end of her massively
inflated orifice decorations sending mind-bending vibrations of torment
deep into her body.
The weights were swinging wildly as a result of Bimbo’s own reactions to
the burning lines of fire in her buttocks, adding their own special kind
of retribution to an already suffering form.
Miriam breathlessly finished her first session and rounded on the
crying, suspended, rubberised effigy.
“On the hour, every hour from now on, you get the same Bimbo! And each
time I return you get an extra pump on the inflator in case you've gone
slack!”
Bimbo's eyes watered and filled with tears as the full extent of
Miriam's revenge became known, and she could detect no sympathy for her
demise in the eyes of the watching spectators.
Tammy stood gloatingly before the dangling rubberised package, and
didn’t even notice when Miriam had raised her wrists and clamped them
into the Walker.
“Come 266, time for our fun now.” Tammy suddenly returned from her
musing as she felt the control rod urge her forward, and for the first
time realised that she was once more reduced to a helpless toy herself.
She was soon to find out that the trip into town had produced more than
just a spayed Bimbo. Unbeknownst to herself, the trip had also been
arranged to make modifications to her weekend captors, at the suggestion
of Captain Sommes.
_Teatime was to be a testing time as Tammy found out all about those
special modifications!
She was released from her wrist fetters and placed on hands and knees
below the table, her wrists then being re-shackled before her. For some
time she was left as the table was laid and her temporary owners
prepared themselves.
_ Apparently all was ready, and returning to their under table toy they
arranged an unsuspecting Tammy for her new assignment. Her gob-stopping
expando-gag was unlocked and removed. The electro-safety device
preventing unauthorised extraction was remotely deactivated by Captain
Sommes, and Tammy was pleased to be free of its mouth stretching
presence for once.
Over the past months her average hourly freedom from being gob-stoppered
was probably less than one hour in every twenty-four! Brigette liked to
see her fully gagged and would often leave the thing in overnight so as
to be able to wake to a silent, gagged toy, preferably trussed tightly
in one form or another, and left lying alongside her for early morning
play.
Before she had time to enjoy the new freedom, Tammy felt her helmeted
head being pulled back and secured in a neck straining backward position,
which allowed her full sight of her next task. John was sitting, and he
was naked from the waist down. Jutting from his loins was the most
massive erection she had ever seen
him raise. And it was heading straight for her mouth! At first she
baulked with lips tightly compressed, and the stiffened monster nudged
at the underneath of her nose. Although she had
suffered many oral intrusions during training, Tammy had never allowed
John’s weapon to pass her lips.
What the hell! Perhaps she should have. Tammy opened her mouth and
allowed the shaft to enter. On and on it penetrated, passing the root of
her tongue and penetrating deep into her throat. She had long learned to
control the automatic gagging sensation and had soon swallowed the full
throbbing length of his manhood. But what came next was a total surprise.
John had been ringed. A small dural ring was in place just above the
massive root of his shaft, and even before she could react, Tammy found
her nose ring snapped into the sturdy decoration on her ex husband.
She was trapped. Shafted orally to mouth bulging fullness, she was
anchored inescapably to her task. Tammy felt hands on her buttocks and
gasped slightly as a huge dildo penetrated her pussy. She couldn't know
that it was a double ended device. Miriam connected Tammy’s clitoral
ring to the base of the device and ensured that the stretching monster
stayed fully buried.
Now Miriam slid into her seat, at the same time easing herself onto the
jutting outer end of Tammy's double dildo. Fully engulfed, the dildo was
now connected to the similar rings adorning Miriam's clitoris and mons.
Tammy was the connecting link in a chain of erotic arousal! Shafted
both ends, and unable to do anything about it, she waited to see what
came next.
Miriam's cool hands gripped her buttocks, inducing a backward and
forward rocking motion in the under table pet. Tammy quickly grasped
their intentions as she proceeded to rock without coercion. 7 :
John and Miriam settled down to their meal with the double ended sex toy
pleasurably performing below. Occasionally Miriam would slap the
reciprocating rump playfully, and 266 would begin to rock more strenuously.
Whilst Miriam could control the urges transmitted via rings and
thrusting dildo, she laughed as John’s face became a study of reddened
excitement. It was hard to stay in control with the warm sucking tube of
your ex wife's throat sliding back and forth on a throbbing shaft of
bursting manhood; especially when the controller to her Walker was
lying on the table and ensuring that she remained active for as long as
necessary!
John happened to look up at Bimbo and was surprised to see that despite
her awesomely strained bondage, her SS training was still driving her
insane as she watched the unfolding spectacle below. But fulfilment was
an impossible dream for her. The lips of her hugely stretched love nest
were so distended, there was no way she could ever bring pressure to
bear on the triggers of her burgeoning lust. She was destined to stay a
hopelessly plugged and stoppered ceiling decoration for as long as
Miriam chose to keep her that way.
Miriam followed John’s gaze and seeing the squirming Bimbo, she slapped
Tammy into a more rigorous motion for the benefit of the dangling
exhibit. It was so gratifying to know that the rubberised bitch would
have given a right arm to change places with any of the three people
below her. But she would never be
given the choice. Miriam would make certain of that, and Tammy would be
there to make doubly sure.
Below the table Tammy was bouncing continuously from one anchor to the
other with an ever increasing tempo. Not only was she driving her master
and mistress to the inevitable conclusion, but she was raping herself on
the other end of that dildo. In addition, she too was experiencing all
the same clitoral excitation as her rear mounted captor.
Bimbo looked on in terrible, tormented arousal as the table trio erupted
simultaneously into a rapturous orgasmic climax, and Tammy was spanked
into a frenzied finale by the demanding Miriam. Both John and Miriam
became synchronised in their thrusting pelvic movements with the result
that the unseen pet below was being systematically compressed and then
stretched by her controlling ring connections. It was pure hell to be
reduced to such an impossibly secured and used object, and yet Bimbo
envied her every second of that exquisite torment.
The grand final explosion, when it came, left both Miriam and John
arched backwards in their chairs, and the skewered Tammy suspended off
the floor in a stretched quivering line of penetrated and ringed
helplessness. There she had to remain, using her body in a stiffened
form to maintain the maximum length between dildo and manhood. To relax
would almost certainly stretch her nose and clitoral rings to painful
extremes.
After what seemed like an age, Tammy felt the two pelvic anchors relax
and lower her to the floor. Her clitoral ring was disconnected and the
huge dildo drawn out of her love tube. John now eased back from the
table and drew the phallically gagged Tammy with him, then with great
care he stood up and lifted Tammy to a standing, bent over posture. Her
manacled wrists were released and then reconnected to her neck clamps.
She fully expected to be released from the nose ring now, but it was not
to be. John had decided to keep her gagged with his manhood, and with a
gentle shove he propelled Tammy backwards towards the drinks’ cabinet.
It was difficult moving in reverse whilst bent double and gagged with a
pound of throbbing manhood, but she soon learned the tricks. It was
either that or endure having the nose ring ripped out of her nose.
John decided to keep her orally impaled on his shaft for the night, and
tomorrow she would spend the day as an attachment of Miriam's pussy.
Meanwhile, with John now relaxing on the sofa, Tammy found herself
kneeling with rump pointing skywards in order to maintain her
alignment with the rod in her throat. Miriam took full advantage of her
presented pubic mound and was soon happily thrusting away with the
double ended dildo.
It occurred to Tammy that on the following day she would not only be
permanently muffing out Miriam, but playing host to the real thing as
John made use of her other end.
Humiliating though the predicament was, Tammy could not deny the arousal
she felt at this unusual situation. She was thoroughly gagged and needed
only the slightest urging with the electro prod to increase the size of
that gag if it began to fail. It was a strange feeling to know that you
were going to stretch and fill your own mouth to bursting simply by
moving your tongue or sucking.
John drifted off to sleep in an after dinner, after sex, haze of
comfort, and as he did so, his manhood began to dwindle. Soon it reached
normal, dormant proportions and Tammy felt that it had shrunk enough for
her to manage speech to Miriam. As soon as she tried, the mere movements
of her mouth and vibrations of speech aroused John's slumbering gag.
Miriam laughed as Tammy’s opening sentence was rapidly stifled into
silence and eye bulging oral expansion. Did the poor girl not know that
a sleeping male’s erection was usually far bigger than when they were
awake?
Miriam returned to her book, confident that Tammy was well silenced with
that auto-expanding gag. Several times the luckless pet tried over the
next hour, and each time she was reduced to waffling gurgles as her
phallic gag expanded and silenced her.
John stirred and awakened, then after a sly look at Miriam, who
pretended to be engrossed in her book, he lazily used Tammy instead of
going to the toilet and emptied a bursting bladder into his attached
receptacle without even moving from his chair.
Miriam grinned behind her book as she heard the gulping noises from
Tammy's gagged form. John was really enjoying his mastery over the
formerly strong willed Tammy. And speaking of mastery, she looked up,
Bimbo was due for some more attention. Her implants hadn't been pumped
for the fifth time yet, and now that the hood was extended to cover all
the face, the rubberised distorted woman never even knew it was coming
until she felt her tubes being stretched even more. Miriam had suffered
hell at the hands of the station crew whilst she was filed. Now Bimbo
was finding out just what she had sentenced her rival to.
With relish she pumped away and watched the stringently strained form
quivering with contained effort as the pussy stretching monster reached
the size of a baby’s head. Now for the back hole. The black glistening
rubber positively came to life. Millions of tiny, rippling waves
flickered across the suspended form as Bimbo's anal implant expanded
even more. Any sound had long since ceased when the inflatable oral gag
had passed the large grapefruit size, and her rubber covered lower face
became a replica of a trumpet player's cheeks.
John reawakened as the thwacking of the cane sounded loudly, and looked
up to see Miriam laying into Bimbo again. This time on her exposed
breasts. It was an impressive sight, and giving Tammy a pubic nudge, he
urged his chained female masturbation machine into action. As an after
thought, he grasped the handle on Tammy's Walker and lifted her until
her buttocks were vertically upwards, leaving her inverted and perched
on a madly working mouth. Miriam seeing the offered target, turned and
occasionally gave Tammy’s presented pubic mouth a quick slash with the
cane.
The effect for John was spectacular as Tammy gulped and jerked on the
pulsing gag within her mouth. It was a very interesting feeling for
Tammy. Being perched and pivoted in an inverted mode on a man’s bursting
penis was not one of the subjects covered in her adolescent education.
Perhaps it should have been!
But it was late, and both John and Miriam decided it was time for bed.
Tammy went as she was, faithfully shuffling backward in the direction
her gag pointed. Bimbo in the meantime, was snuggled down for the night
with a few extra pumps and some even heavier weights for nipples and
clitoris.
John had a blissful night. Tammy on the other hand was not quite so
comfortable. Arranged on her stomach between John's legs, she was
stringently hog-tied with her feet pulled up to her wrist clamps, so
that her heels were somewhere between her shoulder blades. She was in
fact, reduced to a warm easily manoeuvred bundle of femininity impaled
on his tool for the
night. The nose ring connection guaranteed she would stay that Way.
 John didn’t even need to rise for his nightly trek to the bathroom. He
had his own personal bathroom attachment, and when he awoke to his usual
morning erection, it was to find it already encased in a pleasurable
oral female sheath just waiting to explode into action. During the night
he'd experienced several wet dreams and vaguely remembered gurgling
protests from below the sheets as his expanding manhood had telescoped
down into Tammy's throat whilst she slept. She'd been rudely awakened on
several occasions as he prodded deep untouched throat areas with his
throbbing rod. The protestations had become progressively muted as his
sleepy fantasies grew in strength, until the protests were mere silent
vibrations against the taut flesh of his fully expanded manhood.
On several occasions Tammy had found herself gulping down his seed as he
exploded into the deep recess of her throat, and occasionally swallowing
a long stream of fluid as he used her for other, less tasteful
requirements.
John found it was a magnificent feeling to have a woman so totally
helpless between his legs. She was just a parcelled sex object to be
used at the slightest whim. And as a parcel, unable to protest or refuse
the slightest demand.
Damn! If only he'd thought of sending Tammy through a SAC before she was
abducted and claimed by another. She was so much more desirable now as a
pet-toy, and women when controlled like this were such incredibly useful
objects of masturbation. But then, there was always another chance.
After all he had Miriam. Hmm! Perhaps a Vid-call to the Captain could
provide some interesting connections. He prodded deep into the captive
throat and urged the mouth back into action as he began to plot.
Tammy was released from her fleshy gag for breakfast and toileting, but
within an hour had resumed her stooped poise. This time as a crotch
ornament for Miriam.
It was a welcome relief from the jaw stretching gag of John’s penis, but
with her tongue now forming the principal connection between herself and
the task in hand, it was soon found to be just as demanding.
Miriam, like Brigette and Brenda, turned out to be all wor fragrant,
succulent, exciting, and sensuous, and even though she was little more
than a captive sex aid, Tammy enjoyed her enforced submergence between
those smooth, warm thighs and was soon fulfilling her appointed task
with more than a little personal enjoyment. Tammy's enjoyment increased
as John took her from behind. Miriam was uncomplaining as the lips and
ringed tongue of her fettered captive were repeatedly pressed even
tighter against her own love nest by John’s powerful thrusts into the
offered love tunnel.
Tammy was pleased to feel the huge thrusting pole of her ex husband
driving into her with commanding force. Brigette and Brenda did allow
her pleasure, but nothing could replace the true ecstasy of being taken
by a man whilst bound and silenced. The act of penetration and having
part of another person actually inside her body was the ultimate form of
being taken, or as was now the case in her present employment, ‘used’.
He took her several times in the following hours, and each time she rose
rapidly to a climax. Miriam in turn, used her to the full and would
allow no rest for her busy tongue no matter what position was demanded
of her by her captor’s continual movement around the house. Miriam
found it so exciting, virtually ignoring the tongue leashed pet-toy,
secure in the knowledge that the helpless Tammy would always be secured
to her pussy no matter where she went. As had been the case earlier with
Major Cunningham, Tammy was no more than a vibrator in Miriam's crotch.
John became inventive, and directed Miriam and her pubic attachment to
stand under some previously arranged suspension hooks. He quickly
connected a rope to the base of Tammy's Walker and hoisted her rear end
into the air, leaving her feet some six inches above the floor. Now he
shackled her ankles and
secured them down. Tammy was suspended, bent double, and still leashed
to Miriam's crotch. It was a truly inviting site, and
one that he was barely able to resist, but then there was more to his
creation.


CHAPTER SIX
THE TRAP IS SPRUNG

John left Miriam to play with her suspended toy for a while, returning
several minutes later with more restraint equipment. Miriam was puzzled.
Her toy was fully secured already. What more could he do to reduce her
freedom. But as she soon found out, the items were not for Tammy, but
for herself!
She had never been bound before, and resisted vigorously at first, much
to the discomfort of fammy who was yanked around by her struggles. But
John managed to convince her that she would enjoy the experience so with
some misgivings Miriam allowed him to bind her wrists and stretch her up
on tiptoe as he secured the rope to a ceiling suspension point.
A thrill of indefinable quality ran through Miriam's body, and intrigued
by this new experience, she stood unprotestingly as her ankles were bound
and secured to the floor.
She tested her bonds and found that she was well restrained, stretched
tautly and with toes barely touching the floor she was reduced to tiny
sideways movements, further impeded by the busy tongue connected to her
clitoris. Whatever John had in mind, it was too late to do anything now.
John was in no hurry. He had two toys at his disposal, and Miriam was
obviously enjoying the novel experience of being helpless. She would not
have been quite so happy had she been privy to the thoughts of the busy
pet-toy in her crotch, for Tammy was having uneasy feelings at the
developing situation.
John played with Miriam for several minutes, and using stinging slaps to
Tammy’s rear, speeded up her clitoral titillation to the immense
pleasure of the owner of that aroused nodule.
He left Tammy to attend to the lower region and concentrated his own
efforts on Miriam's heaving breasts. It was essential that this new
convert to the world of bondage was fully aroused before he attempted
the next item of her wardrobe.
Groaning with the pleasure of Tammy's increased activity, Miriam opened
her mouth with barely a second thought as the rapidly exploding lust in
her body gathered momentum. Nor did she express any form of protest as
John packed her mouth tight | with cloth and secured it in place with a
narrow leather strap. This only added to Miriam's already out of control
libido. Now she was totally at the mercy of her lover. Meanwhile,
Tammy's fears were growing by the second.
Was Miriam blind to what was happening? There was little time for
further thought as John moved behind her, and after locating his
hardened shaft into her cleft, he drove inwards with irresistible
power and plunged Tammy's face deep into Miriam's crotch with the force
of his drive.
His tempo increased, and Tammy was helplessly buffeted back and forth
with his powerful strokes. Her suspended shape transferred each thrust
via her tethered tongue to her retrained partner in a series of
compressive jerks to her ringed clitoris. It was a sort of chain
reaction that was to have a devastating impact on the tethered women.
Neither could deny the lustful sensations of being used in such an
impossibly defenceless | manner. Within seconds both were exploding with
unbridled orgasmic gyrations as John plunged deeper and deeper into
Tammy's offered pussy!
The hurricane passed, and Tammy felt John withdraw abruptly, Miriam
probably didn’t even notice he had left due to the fact that. Tammy had
not been instructed to cease her manipulation. She would continue to
manipulate Miriam's clitoris until told to stop. To do otherwise would
only earn her a dose of anal punishment: as the probe arched her into
obedience.
Tammy could hear John’s footsteps receding into the other room, followed
shortly thereafter by the sound of voices as the Vid-phone was used.
There was no mistaking the authoritative tones of the redoubtable
Captain Sommes, although Tammy was unable to hear the actual content of
the conversation.
Miriam's moaning stopped for a second, and in the resulting silence,
Tammy was able to overhear the last few words.
“Oh! Good. A few minutes then, that's fine, she'll be ready.” John
switched off and returned to the room, where Miriam was now becoming
worried.
She looked questioningly at John and attempted a few waffled words,
giving up the effort as she realised that the gag would allow no
conversation. Her eyes widened and her look of apprehension grew as he
approached her, holding a brand new sonic anesthetiser. Instantly, Tammy
knew that her premonition was coming true. John had sampled the delights
of having a full grown, fully developed woman as a sex toy, and there was
no way he was going to be able to do without such an object once 266
went back to her owner.
The truth dawned on Miriam just as John removed the protective cap from
the active pad on the slim instrument. Her struggles to avoid the
inevitable were traumatic, to say the least, for the tongue leashed
woman below.
But Miriam's struggles were in vain. There was no way she could avoid
the light touch of electronic wizardry.
Her struggles became frantic, but moments later, Tammy could feel the
thrashing body steadily becoming less agitated, until Miriam hung still
in her bonds. Her fate was sealed. It was only a matter of time now
before John walked proudly down the street displaying his own,
controlled pet-toy. Miriam was destined to become another number on
the state central computer!
‘Tammy was released from her bondage and straightened thankfully from
her long-stooped ordeal in Miriam's hot pussy. She looked at the doomed
woman hanging silent and still.
Tammy knew from bitter experience that by the time she regained her
senses it would be far too late.
There was a click as John reconnected Tammy's wrists to the Walker
clamps. Obediently she opened her mouth in anticipation and allowed
the expando-gag to be replaced. With her ankles still fastened to the
floor, she would remain within feet of Miriam until it was time for her
to be moved.
She stood still and contemplated the unconscious woman as John
disappeared. Apparently he was returning Bimbo to her normal doggie mode
having released her from the dangling torment of the past two days.
Her eyes wandered over the stretched Miriam. She would make a fine pet.
Tall, firm and well rounded in all departments. She had an even wider
mouth and more generous lips than herself, which would be sufficient to
ensure that many hours would be spent gagged with manhood.
No male would be able to pass up the lure of such a sensuous opening. At
the other end, Tammy knew from her personal, close inspection that
Miriam's other orifices were equally as inviting. Her tight little anus
was a pink, virginal rose bud affair, whilst the pubic lips of her mons
were perfect fleshy rounded lobes, neatly sculpted to form a symmetrical
slot with none of the usual lace red bits showing. Just a pink-skinned
cleft of extraordinary lure. The sort of opening one gets by closing
the mouth and sucking lips inwards. It was a flesh-vise capable of
clamping any male shaft in a grip of exotic delight!
The door chime sounded, and having just finished with Bimbo, John
hurried to open it. The equipment promised by the Captain had arrived.
Miriam's transport arrangements, it would seem.
Apparently one item was too large to bring in, and was left in the
garage, requiring John to take the slumbering Miriam out for fitting.
This was no problem, and Tammy watched as Miriam was lowered and carried
from sight by the equipment crew. They returned a few minutes later
without John; he was probably still in the garage.
No attempt was made to release Tammy, and she was left wondering as they
took hold of Bimbo's leash and waddled her out. Apparently Bimbo was
going back alone, and somehow, Miriam and herself were going together.
But where, and how? It was to be another half hour before she found out.
John reappeared and removed the ankle restraint, then taking her control
rod, walked her out to the garage where Miriam was just returning to the
conscious world; and wishing she hadn't. She was awaking to a nightmare
that refused to go away!


CHAPTER SEVEN
MIRIAM GOES FOR A SPIN

Tammy gasped as she saw the wretched woman's plight. She’d heard of
Wheeler's but had never actually seen one. They had appeared whilst she
was in training at the SAC unit. As a direct result of standard policy
when dealing with subversives, it was designed to achieve maximum
exposure, trauma, and humiliation for the occupant. Miriam
unfortunately had to be classified as subversive to allow Captain Sommes
to bypass the normal receiver station induction, and have John’s trainee
pet delivered direct to Major Cunningham at SAC-94. OS
Tammy gazed in awe at the muted, sobbing woman. Fully helmeted and
expando-gagged, she had no recourse to pleas of mercy in her attempts to
retrieve the situation. But this was merely a standard, unimpressive
piece of the arrangement. Her mode of transport was something else!
Basically the Wheeler consisted of two huge wheels, between which the
subversive was secured in a squat, wide spread configuration. Wrists,
ankles, neck and waist were clamped cruelly in steel clamps mounted on
the various tubes, whilst a huge steel, tubular peg was located in a
desperately stretched and displayed vaginal peg-hole. A secondary safety
peg filled Miriam's anal opening.
The device would normally be towed behind a mini hover tractor,
sometimes in trains of three or four if it was a big group
being busted. This Wheeler however was modified and had a towing
attachment that looked strangely familiar to Tammy. Suddenly it dawned
on her. The auxiliary connector on the back of a Walker would accept
that fitting. In fact, her walker would surely have one!
‘With sinking heart, Tammy realised that she was to be instrumental in
Miriam's transport to her unavoidable fate. John and Brigette had
conspired to arrange that she towed the
trussed woman to the Hover Transport terminal for shipment to SAC-94,
There was nothing she could do. She could only watch as John
grasped the tow bar and moved the Wheeler over to her waiting form.
Her eyes opened in disbelief. Instead of merely hanging exposed
between the wheels, Miriam was rotating with them as he pulled her
transporter across the garage. A loud, clanking noise seemed to emanate
from deep within the fettered woman's body, drawing muffled gasps of
distress.
Tammy was stunned at the enormity of Miriam's plight. She would be
spinning end over end as long as the device was in motion. Nothing would
be hidden as she displayed every orifice and curving detail of her
fettered form on the trip through the town. Then there was the clanking
noise? John seemed to read her mind.
The tube inserts have single, heavy metal balls inside. Every time she
revolves they fall to the other end of the tube. I should think they'll
keep her entertained until you reach SAC-94!" Tammy's legs felt weak as
she contemplated the effect this massive jarring vibration would have on
the bound woman, bearing in mind she had already displayed masochistic
tendencies.
Before John positioned Tammy for connection, Miriam happened to be
almost upright for the moment, and Tammy caught the pleading look as she
strove to get her human tractor to refuse. But Tammy could do nothing to
help her. A refusal might
well place her on a similar device and then both of them would be
spinning through town behind a hover-tractor.
There was a snapping click, and Miriam was connected. Tammy had no idea
what inclination she was in, nor could she turn to find out with the
Walker holding her stiff and her wrists locked to the neck brace. She
hoped Miriam wasn't upside down because John cautioned her to wait as he
contacted Captain Sommes.
“Okay, Brigette. Ready to go!” The Captain acknowledged, then addressed
Tammy whom she could see in the background.
“Right 266! Transport Terminal 23, Flight 823. But not yet It’s two
hours before it leaves. I don’t intend allowing you to stroll through
town. You leave in one hour. Be at the terminal in one hour, or I'll be
using the prod to speed you up!”
Tammy was stunned. To reach Terminal 23 in one hour would mean running
most of the way; in fact, all of the way just in case the robot lights
were against her and caused her to lose time!
Miriam would spend the whole journey spinning at a dizzying speed in her
Wheeler. Not only that, but to reach the terminal in time, she would
have to be taken by the most direct route; right through the densest
part of town. Poor Miriam; her introduction to the world of total
subservience and humiliation was to be a baptism of fire.
Miriam overheard the order to wait, and in a way it was worse than going
now. Quite apart from the fact that she was inverted, there was the long
wait knowing what was to come. She strained against the Wheeler clamps
in desperation as the nightmare image of her pending public display
returned, but it was hopeless. Nothing moved. She felt her body rotate
slightly as Tammy shifted restlessly and Miriam was made painfully aware
of how inextricably linked she was with that trussed and controlled Tammy.
The poor girl was no more than a machine, one press of a button and
Tammy would spring into action. Now she herself was destined to be
converted into a similar pet-toy.
She moaned pitifully, and John appeared in her inverted vision, not to
release her, but to stroke and caress her proffered buttocks. For a
second or two he was gone, only to return with the final humiliation; -
a sign which slotted into the Wheeler and
proclaimed her status, that of a captured subversive on her way for
conversion! 
Tammy moved again, and John sternly ordered her to remain still then,
having checked everything over again, he left the women to wait in the
silence of the garage.
John returned at five minutes to the hour and stood gloating _as they
waited for the order to depart. He moved in front of
Tammy and kissed her rubber covered cheek before saying his goodbyes to
his current wife.
“Thank you for a most interesting weekend 266, perhaps we'll meet again
sometime,” he said, patting her affectionately on the rump. Tammy wasn't
quite sure if she wanted to meet again, or for that matter how she felt
towards him. But then she had to accept the inevitability of his
actions. As a male endowed with the normal count of hormones and
confronted with such opportunities, she could hardly blame him for
what had happened. And after all, she had gone looking for him. Had she
never seen him again, Miriam may not have ended up on a Wheeler.
It was certainly a sobering thought.
“Get moving 266, the clock is running!” Brigette’s voice interrupted
her reverie. 
Tammy moved slowly forward to the garage doors as the sound of Miriam's
last minute, desperate entreaties echoed from the walls. Although she
hadn't heard the command in Tammy's ear. piece, she knew her time had
come. For an instant Miriam knew exactly how the condemned man facing a
firing squad would feel as the marksmen raised their rifles. Nothing
could stop the crushing humiliation she was being drawn towards; and
yet. there was a strange excitement in her body in knowing that she was
powerless to prevent it.
Slowly she rotated upwards, and as she swung over the upper arc of her
first rotation, she saw for the first time the rear view of her helpless
Walker’d companion. Even now, with such imminent trauma staring her in
the face, Miriam could not help but feel arousal as she saw the
sculptured, mincing buttocks of 266. It was an exciting feeling to
reflect that in the not so distant future, she herself would be just as
helpless and inviting. Truly, between them, they were going to be an
extraordinarily lustful sight on their way to the terminal.
Clank! Clank! Miriam shuddered with unsuppressed feeling as the two
steel balls moved in quick succession and sent exciting feelings searing
through her nether regions. The feeling of being turned end over end as
she was mechanically stimulated was making her gasp into the gag as
powerful surges of erotic energy boiled in her plugged pussy and turned
her insides to jelly. An auto-reflex tried to close her stretched anal
ring to normal dimensions, but it remained tight and stretched as it
encircled the clanking rear shaft.
They reached the door and were bathed in sunlight as Tammy moved out on
to the drive. Already Miriam was struggling for release lest a watchful
neighbour saw her plight, but the Wheeler maintained her solidly
displayed as it rotated her for public inspection.
It was a stupid fear really. What did it matter if the neighbours saw
her? Soon thousands would see her, and aerial news-hawks were sure to
record their passage for the evening Vid-News, complete with a name and
details of who she was. Everyone would know that the rotating,
humiliated spectacle had been Miriam Sullivan on her way to be trained
as a grovelling, controlled pet-toy, or worse still, an LPG.
Realising that they had only an hour, Tammy heaved against the frame and
was rewarded by a steadily increasing tempo of clanking behind her as
she built up speed down the drive. The image of that revolving, trussed
woman behind her could not be suppressed, and as a result, her own
love-lips were soon glistening with the syrup of arousal.
It was quite a cacophony of sound once they were up to speed. Apart from
the rapid clanking of the steel balls, there was the whirr of the big
wheels and a rising and falling wailing moan from the spinning, clamped
form of Miriam. They started down the long hill towards town, and as she
picked up even more speed, Tammy felt the first spattering drops on her
naked, hardworking rump.
Already Miriam was producing copious amounts of love juice thanks to the
clanking pegs in her lower body, and the centrifugal force of her
whirling torment was spraying the hot liquid in all directions.
Tammy made a tal note to ask the Captain to have a mudguard fitted in
line with Miriam's fanny if this was to be a regular event.
They reached the foot of the hill and began the journey through the
suburbs with the wet spray becoming a positive downpour. Miriam was
being shafted to destruction, and yet there was nothing she could do to
ease her torment. Tammy could easily visualise the straining, wide
spread thighs and slippery, glistening sex lips whizzing around behind
her. The sight of that stretched, invaded cleft was vividly imprinted on
her mind from
the glimpse in the garage. But now she could imagine those very same
sexual organs pulsing with power and life as the unfortunate Miriam
was ignited by her mechanical ravishment and the masochistic experience
of her rotary mode of transport.
Tammy was torn between slowing to ease the torment, and speeding up to
get it over with as soon as possible.
‘She speeded up slightly. Tammy knew that if she failed in her task, she
would surely end up mounted as Miriam, only behind an untiring tractor.
And if she knew the Captain, destined for a long auto-route trip at high
speed. Whilst she knew she would respond in much the same manner as
Miriam, she was afraid of the cataclysmic explosions of sex such abuse
would bring. It was a catch 22 situation. She would love to have changed
places with
the woman behind right now, but was fearful of the consequences.
A feeling of devilment entered Tammy's mind, and with images | of her
own use as Miriam's clitoral stimulator earlier that day, she quickened
her pace even more and increased the whirling» torment of that
helplessly tumbling woman. The clanking became a rapid rattling, and
with it the audible proof that Miriam was frantically responding. The
increased centrifugal force was — drawing her breasts and blood engorged
love-lips out even further, enhancing the feeling of throbbing, heated
fullness to an aching need. She would know they were on level ground and
guess that Tammy was doing it deliberately, but then there was" little
she could do about it. This realisation that she could be controlled so
devastatingly, even by a pet-toy, sent even more fire" to her beleaguered
pussy and caused her gasping breath increase to uncontrollable, keening
snorts of pure ecstasy.
The sounds of unstoppable arousal from behind became louder, and Tammy
found herself enjoying her total control over the trussed woman. Even
though she was secured in her own
controlling device, she could still exercise awesome control over the
body of that whirling female cargo.
Tammy relented and slowed down. It had suddenly occurred to her that the
fickle nature of her employment, and indeed her owner, could easily
reverse the situation and place Miriam in a position of revenge.
A set of robot lights loomed ahead, thankfully on red. At least she
could legitimately give Miriam a rest from the combined stimulation and
rotary torment.
They rolled to a stop at the lights, and she stood waiting. Tammy could
hear the frantic sounds of a monumentally explosive orgasm going on
behind. She tried to ignore Miriam's trauma and concentrate on the lights.
Her heart sank. A traffic cop was walking towards them and commanding
her to wait even though the lights were changing.
“Just a minute! Er 266,” he said, looking at the number on her
helmet. “You can't go round town with that subversive making a racket
like that. You just wait there while | make some
adjustments.” Tammy stood still as he vanished from her sight, then as
she listened she heard Miriam's gagged pleading increase before slowly
being reduced to zero. Tammy counted eight clicking turns on the
expando-gag. Miriam's whole lower face must have resembled a balloon
with that sort of expansion. She herself had only ever experienced
five extra punishment turns after normal expando fitting.
The officer reappeared and waved her on, and as she pulled off, there
was only the sound of whirring wheels and clanking tubes. Miriam would
be suffering the next three quarters of the journey in mouth bulging
silence.
The spattering wetness was renewed with a vengeance. This extra
humiliation and reduction to helpless torment had inspired even
greater pulsing orgasmic torment in the whirling woman. At this rate it
would be doubtful if her sanity survived the trip, thought Tammy as she
raced onwards. But then, she'd been surprised on many an occasion by her
own powers of tolerance since the Captain had taken delivery of her. No
doubt Miriam would endure, to be taken even further into the twilight
world of exploding orgasmic power by some new gadget at SAC94.
As she ran, Tammy could see the crowds stopping to stare at the rotating
woman behind, who at this speed had become a whirling, blurred pink
image of erotically arranged limbs and offered openings. One thing of
great interest to the men was the dramatic re-sculpting of her breasts,
from rounded flattish jellies to dangling swinging orbs with every rapid
change of angle. The women seemed more interested in the flying droplets
of Miriam's liquid passion oil. Irrefutable proof that the subversive
was being sexually torn apart and reduced to a spinning orgasmic object!
General opinion was that it served the bitch right for bringing their
gender into disrepute.
By the time they were rolling the last mile to the terminal, Tammy could
feel a push-pull sort of motion in her back. Obviously Miriam's efforts
for physical and mental release from the awesome stimulation were
reaching levels that were threatening to tear her apart. The effects of which were so strong as to be
felt through the frame of the cart. Miriam must be begging, Nay!
Screaming for her to stop and end her torment, but there was no way she
dare comply!
Tammy prayed they were on time. The thoughts of herself occupying the
vacated wheeler once Miriam was loaded onto the transport were too
mind-bending to contemplate.
Captain Sommes was waiting as they drew up at the terminal, and Tammy
eased to a stop directly in front of her. Behind her were sounds of a
semi-delirious woman in the middle of another horrendously powerful
orgasm. She couldn't see, but her mistress was obviously watching the
event.
Miriam was cavorting and straining like a maniac, her eyes had rolled up
under eyelids, and her fingers and toes were clutching and clenching
madly at the air. What little movement the trussed woman had was being
used to frantically rape herself on the metal invader nestling in her
love nest, until the staggeringly powerful paroxysms of her orgasmic
explosion froze her into a quivering, gasping blob.
The Captain waited until it was over, then turned to Tammy.
“I think this subversive needs more exposure 266! You've got fifteen
minutes to spare before boarding, so take her round the block a couple
of times at full speed!”
“MMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRR!
“MMMMMMMMphhh!
“NNNNRgg!”
Miriam's pleas for mercy even managed to escape the over expanded mouth
plug. Her eyes implored the stony faced Brigette as she began to rotate,
but were rewarded only with a. condescending smile that denoted complete
control over her destiny. Miriam knew the full extent of her reduction
to a play object. It was obvious that no good purpose would be served by
her prolonged ordeal, other than to satisfy the lustful whim of Brigette
Sommes!
The Captain stared after the departing wheeler and its reignited
end-over-end parcel of exploding lust. It was so satisfying to have
these once free women mounted on these devices. The NPGs had seen and
done everything, but to this type of woman it was a shattering change of
status.
266 wasn't going fast enough! A button was pressed and a radio signal
immediately energised the prod in the departing rump of the pet-toy.
Tammy arched and jumped, then guessing what was required, powered the
Wheeler up to an unprecedented pace, ever mindful of the high pitched,
keening noises from her loaded Wheeler, and the spattering spray of love
juice on her buttocks.
Poor Miriam. The Captain was determined to reduce her to a grovelling, 
addicted sex slave before she even set foot inside the SAC unit!
Miriam was duly released and Ringer'd for transhipment to SAC-94, and
with a sense of dread, Tammy felt herself released from the traction bar
of the Wheeler as a small Hover-Tractor appeared. Her fears were not
unfounded. Captain Sommes was taking her home now, but mounted on the
recently vacated Wheeler. Tammy watched fearfully as the extension
shafts for slow speed travel were removed and the huge wheels moved
closer together as was demanded by traffic regulations for hover drawn
Wheelers. Her trip looked like being much faster than the journey
experienced by Miriam.
Within ten minutes, the hover-tractor was whispering along the road and a
naked, whirling Tammy was learning all about the effects of being spun
at high speed, and endlessly aroused. Three weights on lengths of chain
had been attached by the Captain and were now adding centrifugal torment
to her nipples and clitoris. Fortunately it was rush hour, and as a
result her Wheeler was often crawling in the snaking traffic queues
leaving town. During her many trips to the inverted position, she was
able to see that the following hover-car contained four giggling
office girls, all of whom were enjoying every second of the display
visible through their windshield. It was most embarrassing to perform
virtually endless rotating orgasms for their viewing whilst slowly
turning over and over in the crawling traffic.
Although the lower speeds were more manageable, it did have the added
torment of allowing the weights to alternately rest on her body and then
drop with ring jerking severity as she slowly
revolved. It was debatable which was the most desirable of the two modes
of operation.
They finally arrived home.
Bimbo, who had been returned earlier, was at the door to greet them,
making the simulated woofing noises through her gag and waggling the
tail protruding from her anus. The training had worked well. To all
intents and purposes, Bimbo was a gleeful doggie welcoming her masters.
There were tears of shame in her eyes, but still she carried out her
allotted task, fearful of the consequences of disobeying her pet-toy owner.
She waddled close to the Wheeler, and stood dutifully waiting as the
sexually exhausted Tammy was released by her mistress. Tammy's face was
drained and pale. The Wheeler was a dreadful device, and yet she
couldn't suppress the exciting feeling that she would be gracing its
clamps again in the future.


CHAPTER EIGHT
A NEW YEAR, A NEW SOCIETY

The year 2477AD drew to a close, and as the new year rolled around,
Tammy stopped to consider the last twelve months. This time last year
she had been a free woman; married, and scornful of the trollops who
lived by and for sex and who were treated as objects by the state.
Less than twelve months later, she herself had undergone the same
traumatic conversion to a woman of pleasure. An owned sex-toy with no
rights or say in anything at all. The one exception being her Bimbo! But
on this count she was very fortunate to have a strict and yet
compassionate owner like Captain Sommes. As far as she knew, with the
possible exception of Major Cunningham, no other owners allowed their
pets a toy of their own.
The outside world and society in general had also undergone massive
changes. With the brief insurrection quelled and the subversive Colonel
Blakely entombed in a degrading, frozen state, the suppression of
womanhood had surged ahead like an unstoppable juggernaut. As a result,
the gap widened between those women of status, and the others who risked
being taken at anytime.
Pets had become fashionable by the few privileged women, mainly as a
status symbol and safety precaution. No UPS team
would dare consider Ringering a woman with a pet, lest her wrath, and
her connections in high places descend on their own heads.
There were of course male pets, but it was illegal to display these
pathetic creatures in public and profane the image of the ruling male
gender. It was, however, considered highly desirable to display female
domestic pets and ensure that all free women were kept in a permanent
state of fear at the thought that it might be their turn next!
A frenzied scramble of one-upmanship had followed in the field of pet
transport; each owner trying desperately to think of greater and even
more inventive ways of humiliating their pets. in public. The appearance
of Bimbo the Dogall those months ago seemed to have been the spark that
ignited this particular fad.
A device currently in vogue was the pet-tricycle for the keep fit
fanatics. This was a direct descendant of the Wheeler, still regularly
in use by the forces of law and order. However, with the tricycle, the
Wheeler'd pet was in front of the power source. This. source being the
owner who sat in a reclined position directly behind her rotating pet.
Pedals were added to cater for the Physical exercise part of the device,
but in all fairness, the greatest attraction for this mode of transport
was the erotic. spectacle of your tormented pet directly in front of you.
As Tammy had surmised, a splash guard had been fitted to protect the
owner from fluid emissions and the staining liquids thrown out by the
spinning occupant. After prolonged use these whirling unfortunates would
be liable to lose control of all bodily functions. It was exciting to
watch, savouring the reduction of a pet to such levels, but messy if
precautions weren't taken.
Several other contraptions were tried, probably the most serious
contender to the tricycle being the famous Femsmobile, designed by a
Scotsman, and presented to Lady Greenfield of Bath-Metro. The major part
of the unit consisted of six housemaids. Three of whom had
unfortunately upset Lady Greenfield, and three others who simply
happened to be around when the numbers needed to be made up!
Basically the device resembled an old, twentieth century Bentley
roadster, except that the bonnets were removed and the engine exposed
for viewing.
The huge Bentley engine was not in attendance, but was in fact replaced
by the spectacular sight of six pairs of up-ended, youthful female
buttocks and a huge overhead crankshaft. Yes, crankshaft! It would
probably have been more technically expedient to have reversed the
construction and placed the crankshaft below the engine, but that
would not have been so aesthetically pleasing for all lovers of
animated, female rear ends.
A further indulgence in nostalgia for that long gone motoring age was
the visible exhaust arrangement. By inclining the reciprocating torso
elements of the power plant, it was possible to mount the unfortunate,
living components at an angle so that their heads stuck out at the
sides. Heads that were clamped tightly into place, and encased in steel
form-fitting helmets!
Internal oral fittings were simply a large bore pipe leading directly
into a widely stretched mouth and maintained by the helmet itself. These
pipes then led out of the helmet and were joined each side of the car
into triple manifolds leading back to the silencers. -
Normally with such an engine, the car would run silently, but by making
use of the whooshing gasps of breath from each active component, it was
possible to produce a creditable, burbling, exhaust note when all the
separate explosions of sound were blended by the silencers!
The sound was a direct result of the method of combustion, so to speak.
In fact, each presented rump displayed a neat facsimile of a monstrously
oversize sparking plug screwed deeply into the proffered rectal
openings. This impression was completed by the HT cable leading to each
plug from the distributor mechanism. For the experts in internal
combustion engines, it can be revealed that the mode of firing and
sequencing was an exact replica of the original petrol engine. The spark
plugs were a
functional rather than a decorative item. Each female propellant’s
compressed lower limbs were connected to the central crankshaft with
special bearing-shoes. It was a simple matter to induce the crankshaft
to turn, merely by administering a shock to each spark plug. The
unfortunate, secured owner of the plugged socket would immediately react
by forcing her legs out in a straight line with the uncontrollable
effect of receiving a power shock up her tender bum.
Surely the most illiterate of technical minds realised that sequentially
energising those plugs would produce a rippling and sustained power
input to the crankshaft. It was amusing to think that if the women had
been able to stop their powerful thigh and buttock muscles from
reacting, the plugs would become dead as soon as the crankshaft ceased
to turn. This was due to the fact that ignition was by magneto, and
didn’t require a battery. The sole source of power for its stinging
output was the turning of the crankshaft. The drawback, of course, was
the engine required a starting handle to produce the first rotation.
Difficult engines would try to resist that manual start with groaning
protest and straining muscles. But gearing incorporated in the
starting connection made it impossible for the inverted, trussed women
to prevent the movement that would then produce a self generated,
unstoppable prime-mover. It was always a fearful, suspense filled moment
for these clamped, banded, and totally incapacitated women, as the slow
forceful movement began to crank them over. They knew that within
seconds the first shattering sparks would cause them to burst into
whirring, mindless, muscle jerking motion.
Indeed, it was a well-used sales gimmick to promote these vehicles. Men
loved to think that the women ensconced in the engine compartment were
providing the very force that controlled them. Such a delightful irony
that they should unwillingly be forced to control themselves! A sort of
perpetual motion, or torment, one could say. Later versions incorporated
a battery and starter motor for the initial cranking, known as an
energiser. But somehow this device seemed to take all the fun out of
driving
a Femsmobile. It was so efficient at cranking the women into action, one
didn't have time to savour the sounds of anger and
dissent as the captive components were manually forced to respond!
Early versions used the splayed leg connection to the crankshaft. But
this was later dropped in favour of the single drive-rod type, with legs
firmly mated at the thighs. Below, a knees to toes arrangement encased
both legs in a single, steel-formed boot. An added advantage of this
legs-together design was the far greater gripping power exerted on the
spark plugs, not to mention the
squeezed image of pouting pussies formed by tightly pressed thighs.
 The stunning effects of seeing this engine in use, often led to
Femsmobiles being left out of gear and simply ticking over for hours on
end whilst their owners were shopping. There was almost always an
admiring crowd by the time the proud driver
returned, and just as often they would respond by revving the engine
unmercifully.
Six hopelessly used and mechanically connected women would find they had
no control over their limbs as the depressed accelerator dramatically
increased the voltage to their sparkplugs. They were forced to
straighten their legs with considerably more speed and power, then be
recompressed for the next stroke by the neighbouring wretch’s enforced
thrusts.
High performance Femsmobiles were so powerful that the whole engine
arrangement had to be mounted on resilient mounts to absorb the
torsional loads imposed by such revving, These engines would tilt and
quiver exactly as old time racing engines had done in response to the
torque reaction.
The high performance rating was usually achieved by using female Olympic
athletes who had failed to secure gold medals, or had refused to amuse
their male coaches, and had fallen from grace. Within days they would
disappear from public life, and spend the rest of their lives as
anonymous engine components in some wealthy individual's vehicular
extravagance.
There was no hope of being recognised and released as the steel exhaust
helmets were a permanent fixture, designed to allow fuelling without
removal. There was not even the need to remove the components from the
car for waste disposal! The nightly task of chauffeurs was to remove
plugs and dildos and insert waste vacuum units into the engines’ warm,
fleshy tunnels. It was certain that any woman consigned to an assembly
plant as an engine component was doomed to be a helpless and erotic
reciprocating organism of ridicule until the end of her working life.
Worn out, they would be de-animated and stored indefinitely as frozen
relics.
Designs grew more adventurous, and even more showy. A good example of
this trend were the high performance sports cars with the twin overhead
camshafts running alongside the gleaming crank.
These camshafts had no mechanical function that would increase the
performance, but merely powered the equivalent of the old valve stems
fitted to twentieth century vehicles. Valves reciprocate rapidly in an
internal combustion engine. So to, did the huge phalluses of this
ingenious design. The exception was, that instead of making an engine
breath, they were shafting each female component of the engine with
blurred, mind-bending ferocity!
They were nice to look at, agreed. But the oily, sticky liquid generated
by these phalluses tended to collect on the engine. This in turn
retained dust and dirt that required constant pressure washing to keep
the engine pristine clean. But as with almost everything, there were
some who would glean pleasure from this seemingly arduous task. It was
very entertaining to watch the blubbering effects on those smooth,
shaven pussy lips as the pressure washer blasted them clean of the day's
dirt and grime.
Heavy duty vehicles were built for use on country estates and similar
large properties of the rich and influential. These in themselves were
worth a mention due to the unusual nature of the machine. In general
they were used for log hauling and such
tasks, and as a result required much heavier and more powerful engines.
The FT storage units supplied all the components required for these
machines. All the big, powerful women who had been left for years
unwanted and frozen in their cubicles, were reanimated and sent to the
assembly lines. As a result twelve and later twenty-four cylinder
engines were built. 
These were really worth watching. Normal practice was to encase each
component in a tubular mono-sheath of ultra tough, reinforced rubber as
a precaution against mechanical failure of the highly stressed restraint
clamps. However it was deemed desirable to leave certain areas open for
inspection. Those areas comprised the eyes, breasts, and of course the
buttocks and crotch region. It was incredible to watch a multitude of
huge, rubber cinched thighs and massive, exposed buttocks ponderously
pumping away at those cranks. Quite apart from the visual stimulus,
witnessing the flexing torso, wasped into powerfully controlled hour
glass shape by the vice like grip of the rubber sheath, was a treat by
itself, This unnatural shaping of such heavy, powerful bodies served
only to extrude and present the exposed sections of breast and buttocks
in even more unreal dimensions.
In general, it was men who liked to watch these massive power units. It
gave such a feeling of mastery over the female of the species when one
imagined that any one of these women was powerful enough to take on
several normal men single handed. And yet here they were; gagged,
sheathed, cinched, clamped, shackled, distorted, and sequentially
controlled like obedient pistons. Converted at the touch of a pedal
from a slowly moving rubberised hunk of muscular womanhood at tick-over,
to a blurring, frenzied mass of impotently controlled muscle and sinew
at full revs. The muffled cursing and screaming, and yet fully contained
anger of these leviathan females gave a special warmth to male groins as
it sputtered from the exhausts, resulting usually in prolonged and
unmerciful revving of the engine.
Strangely, these workhorse units always had camshafts. Undoubtedly the
fascinating sight of those massive pussies and incredibly huge dildos
that inspired the fitting. It was like watching a torpedo disappearing
between two small barrage balloons! And when the machine was worked
hard, a sympathetic, orgasmic resonance would send the whole row of
juddering buttocks into a frenzy of oscillating flesh and noisily
slurping pussies. A later innovation was to collect all the surplus
vaginal secretions via small suction devices attached to pussy lips.
This in turn was re-routed to lubricate the bearings of the machine.
Other devices built into the rubber sheath collected the copious sweat
emissions and topped up the radiator expansion tank. Being a salt laden
liquid, there was no need to use antifreeze in the winter. This
radiator served to remove blood heat in hardworking units by means of a
coolant collar fitted tightly around the neck of each unwilling component.
Going back to this orgasmic resonance, it is as well to mention that a
favourite ploy of forest workers was to wait until the unmistakable
gyrations were almost at a peak, and then declutch. Then they would
press the accelerator to the floor and hold it there. The vehicle would
almost shake to pieces as the sea of strong, pounding limbs and massive
flexing buttocks exploded into a monstrous mass of fast revving
tormented flesh, and the exhaust note rose to a screeching, frenzied
note of helpless fury as these huge powerful women were robbed of their
moment of pleasure by the surging shocks in their hard working,
frantically pumping bottoms. They would be kept like that for several
minutes, thus allowing the driver to savour the full impact of their
impotent fury. It amused the men to watch the clenching, clutching,
clamped and shackled arms and rubber mittened hands as n imagined the
throat within their grasp.
Drivers of such vehicles, who had earlier in their life suffered under a
dominant wife would be afforded the luxury of having her fitted as one
of the components in his own machine. The image of her electrically
plugged and controlled form thrashing
endlessly in humiliating reprisal made the whole thing doubly
enjoyable, and many would proudly write the legend Ex-Wife across her
undulating buttocks.
It was rumoured that Jimmy Williams, a forest worker in NottsMetro
county had deliberately married this type of woman, suffered for a year,
then had her stored in an FT unit. Seemingly insane, he had then done
the same again when he remarried. Six times in all, and every time to a
big, powerful woman who treated him callously. But Jimmy was shrewd.
Each wife had been carefully selected and matched for size and strength.
Having collected six, he had an engine constructed consisting entirely of
these ex wives, re-animated together and assembled at the same plant.
He was seen regularly taking his lunch sitting on the ground near the
exhaust helmets as they huffed and puffed at fast tickover. It gave
him great satisfaction to see their glaring, angry eyes peering out of
those vision slots and to savour his final triumph over their tyranny.
He never stopped the engine from dawn to dusk, but preferred to leave
the machine slowly ticking over when not in use. Each gyrating set of
buttocks bore the identity, indelibly tattooed, of their once dominant
owners. Whimsically, they also sported their marriage order number.
These numbers served another purpose. They gave the firing order to
prevent plug leads being fitted in the wrong sequence. Being of V-6
configuration, the trussed women were fired in sequence: 1, 4, 2, 5, 3,
and 6.
As a final insult, all the women had been clit-ringed and fitted with
small, tinkling bells. Jimmy could listen to the endless jingle of
reprisal even when he was working out of sight of his tractor!
He thought it only fair to ensure they were fitted with the largest
phalluses ever seen on a British built Femsmobile, and thereby allow
them some fun. The clamped women had a different view, They seemed to
resent having something the size of a forearm continually plunging back
and forth in their tightly stretched fannies. But Jimmy ignored that
slight problem. After all, it was
these dildos that produced the distinctive I tumph! Humph! Humph!
Humphing! exhaust note on his first prototype machine! 
Careful thought to camshaft timing however, had revealed that insertion
of the dildos when the female power units were at maximum distortion;
folded and compressed ready for the power stroke, would produce the
loudest exhaust gasp. This was due to the fact that in this position
buttocks, and especially pussies, were at maximum radial stretch and
much more painfully resistant to the thrusting phallus.
This re-timing produced a double exhaust sound, something like a
Humph-aa! Humph-aa! Humph-aa! Humph-aa! as first the dildo ploughed in,
then the electrical charge burst upon the straining back passage whilst
the plundered pussy was still trying to adjust to a massive intrusion of
unyielding steel!
A favourite maintenance task was the removal and cleaning of the spark
plugs each night. It was so satisfying to screw those devilish devices
back into squirming, protesting rectums and then clip the HT leads back
on ready for the next day. Come morning, he would deliberately leave the
magneto kill-switch off and enjoy cranking the clamped women over. With
each slow revolution they would be expecting the first jolting spark
that would start the new day of flexing torment and powerless fury. He
varied the moment when he threw the switch to keep them guessing.
Sometimes, he cranked them for ten minutes while he listened to the
muffled, seething rage and groans of ineffectual effort as they pitted
their strength against the cranking gears. The leviathans had no chance
of resisting their enforced compression and expansion. Jimmy the Wimp
could crank those six, powerful women one-handed, thanks to the wonders
of mechanical design.
Fortunately, none of the powerful components ever escaped the
confinement of their mechanised control, which was perhaps just as well
for Jimmy and the laughing, jeering forest workers!
It was debatable whether any of these power units would have opted to
stay in service rather than be returned to the FT unit.
But then they had little say. It was enjoyable for Jimmy and the men to
watch their use, and so they would remain as low maintenance
reciprocating components. By this time they had been in service for five
months, but it would be four years before they were returned to the
storage unit, tamed and worn out.
By this time, Jimmy would already have six fresh, unsuspecting
Amazons ready in cold storage, awaiting delivery to the assembly shop.
He would often visit the cubicles containing their naked, frozen forms
and savour the thoughts of the day when. they would be endlessly pumping
on that crankshaft.
Having acquired the necessary number of matched engine replacements for
spares, he took a new wife, Sophie. A delicate, well-proportioned girl
who adored him. She would be his final and lasting wife. As the ultimate
insult to his previous wives, he taught her to drive the Femsmobile and
made sure they all knew whose foot was on the accelerator. Strangely,
demure young Sophie enjoyed abusing the cursing, impotent Amazons by
using full power whenever possible. It was a sure fact that when the
Femsmobile returned in the evening after she had used it for the day,
the engine components were dripping with sweat and quivering with fatigue!
Sophie also took an interest in maintenance, particularly in the engine
cylinders, and could often be seen adjusting clamps, fitting new plugs,
or polishing the engine’s components with body oil. Occasionally, when
new exhaust flange seals were required, saliva tends to corrode even the
toughest metals, she would remove all the manifolds and show no reaction
at all to the unleashed verbal abuse and threats.
“Let me loose right now, you skinny little cow; or I'll kick the shit
out of you when I do get free!”
“You little squirt, don’t you ever crank that handle again or else
I'll!!! Nooooo! Don’t you dare put that spark plug back in, you bitch -
“AAAAARRRGGH! You little turd, I'll kick your fanny up around your neck
when I get the chance! Get me off this thing nooow!”
“Sophie enjoyed the sound of gradually stifled abuse as she shoved the
exhaust tube through the helmet aperture and bolted the flanges back on.
“Get me out of this you miserable, snivelling little shit or else
I'll!!! Don’t you dare put that!!!”
~“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRGGG!”"
“MMMMMMMRRRRRRGGG!”"
~“MMMMMMMMPHHRH!”"
~“MMMMMPHHH!"
-“MMMMPH! MMmph! Mmmph! mmph! mph! -mm! -m!— !”
The sound grew less and less as the torque wrench tightened each bolt in
a predetermined order, reducing the foul mouthed women to furious,
impotent silence. It served the fat cows right for mistreating her
husband in the past!
Having reassembled the manifolds she would then crank up the engine and
leave it running at full revs for an hour or more to test the new seals.
Although the diminutive Sophie appeared unperturbed by the abuse thrown
at her, if one were to look carefully, one would perceive a smug smile
of satisfaction as she moved the hand throttle to maximum and watched
the six rear ends and stretched, well-shafted pussies, accelerate to a
frenzied animation. The final speed for testing would be directly
proportional to the amount of abuse she'd received. These Amazons never
learned, and therefore the test speed was always maximum!
The humiliation and fury at having this frail woman cranking them
helplessly into life and then causally accelerating them must have been
horrendous. Sophie always prolonged the agony of the impending test run
by slowly cranking the engine over until each woman rose to the top of
her compression stroke. It was a calculated torment under the pretence
of checking the spark-plugs.
Undeniably, it was also gratifying to see the components’ lush, spongy
buttocks thrust up to maximum and their bodies compressed like
springs; fearfully awaiting the shattering bolt of
energy that would jerk into a straightened, quivering con-rod.
As an added enjoyment, she would polish each set of taut stretched,
denuded pussy lips until they gleamed; this was a thinly disguised
excuse to savour the sight of those huge, chromed dildos penetrating and
poised, ready to begin their endless thrusting torment and turn those
fleshy pubic mounds to foaming lips of quivering, uncontrollable lust!
With typical female attention to detail, she would adorn each offered
clitoris ring with a tightly cinched bow of pink ribbon when she used
the vehicle for shopping trips, and using a super large lip-brush, paint
all those massive pussies with a bright red lipstick. Anal spark-plug
surrounds were enhanced with yellow. It was a pity the ponderous breasts
were out of sight below, clamped viciously tight as part of the engine's
flexible shock-absorber mountings; these bulbous organs would have made excellent show pieces!
Those mountings alone were a masterpiece of technical innovation and
simplicity of design. The monstrous breasts were first clamped at the
base to provide huge ballooning spheres. Then, as the engine was lowered
into place, the distended and previously pierced nipples would locate
and pass through holes in the saucer shaped base plates. A simple
split-pin through each nipple ensured that they would stay in place
until the next major overhaul requiring engine lifting. The full weight
of the engine was lowered until the spheres were compressed into oval
cushions that supported the whole mass of the six trussed units on
twelve spongy, resilient balls of flesh.
In effect, the Amazons were balanced on their squashed, cinched tits.
This was because all other restraints were arranged to be non-vertically
supporting, and the only solid connection was the rotating crankshaft
that allowed no purchase at all to ease the pressure on their mammaries.
With the engine running under varying loads, these squeezed mountings
provided an interesting sight as they flexed, bounced and vibrated with
the ‘Massive, torsional stresses. Clumsy use of clutch and gears
would often cause the whole unit to lurch upwards and sideways, so
that the fleshy mountings were first stretched and then bounced as the
retaining nipple split pins and elasticity of the boobs snatched the
multi-unit violently into place. Crossing over rough terrain was a very
uncomfortable experience for the pistoning women, and one couldn't help
but wonder whether Jimmy hadn't had this in mind when he designed the
thing.
Probably so, for he had endured much from their vitriolic tongues in the
past.
It was well worth it to be comforted by such a crotch warming vision;
naked and humiliated in all her most private parts. Not to mention she
would be excruciatingly trussed and shaped with rubber and steel, then
gagged to eye bulging levels. In addition, there was the image of this
awesomely banded, silenced, totally helpless object being mechanically
raped!
Now! He considered the same rigidly controlled leviathan female object,
tethered by, and at the same time, being painfully bounced like a toy
ball on her own savagely cinched and bulbously vulnerable tits, seething
in impotent anger.
It was a vision that would comfort him through the fires of hell. The
verbal abuse suffered to secure this gratifying retribution was of no
consequence.
It was a fact that the more severe the ear bending they gave him during
their short reign of terror, the greater was the controlling voltage
that would surge into their furiously pumping bottoms once they were
safely assembled into the final configuration of their pre-arranged fate.
Returning to the leisure vehicles, it is essential that one of these
contraptions is mentioned due to its unique nature.
The last of the exotic English designs, and probably the most sought
after as a collectors item was the Ralgy NPG-Special. So named after a
SAC unit equipment’s’ designer, Edward D. Ralgy. This racy Femsmobile had
a supercharger that could give instant power increases of up to thirty
percent. The super-charger had a triple function. Its first was to boost the spark to” the
anal plugs, in addition to which it also sent a charge to split pinned
nipples and presented clitorises. A secondary boost mechanism would
inflate the madly pumping dildos to incredible size. Another
interlinked device, and probably the most | effective, would then bring
into action a series of canes that would lash the flexing rows of
buttocks with unabated ferocity!
Flicking in the supercharger on this female, athlete-powered beast would
result in the driver being thrust back into his seat by the
acceleration. It should be noted that all Ralgys were powered entirely
by 100 metre female sprinters, chosen for their high power to weight
ratio. The NPG part of the name was simply to avoid nosy reporters
checking out the identity of the compo-nents.
Later they were detuned for road use because the noise levels; a high
pitched, continuous screaming sound, could not be contained by any
conventional form of silencing. Other factors were the many civil cases
of complaint that came to court as pedestrians were splattered with
various body fluids when a Ralgy Special roared past. This was due to
their tendency to blow
spark plugs out, and leak fluids past the massive dildos when at high
engine loads.
It was disappointing to see these fine machines reduced to docile street
machines. In their hey-day, it would not be unusual to see upwards of
ten of these superb, sleek racers screaming around a race track with
engines at full bore, a truly impressive. spectacle of flashing,
pulsing, perfectly controlled feminine erotica.
As was to be expected, the Russians produced the most powerful machine
of all time! A monster work-horse using 16 ex-. Olympic female
shot-putters of immense strength and size. The Russians claimed that
this massive machine could pull twelve tons with the accelerator hard
down, but reports on its performance pointed out that it had a
tendency to break the crankshaft if the accelerator was used without
caution. The prototype model had suffered serious defects in distorted
clamps and securing
bands as the angry women were tested. Their massive struggles. for
freedom had even managed to bend thick dural alloy!
Doubling the size and thickness of the fittings had cured the problem
and reduced the women to obedient, flexing components, but at a cost
of nearly doubling the weight of the machine.
In the end it was found to be an impractical invention due to the fact
that it required a small donkey engine, powered by three fem-units, just
to crank it over. The vehicle was later broken up and the engine used in
an auxiliary pumping facility at a reservoir, where it remained operational
for many years.


CHAPTER NINE
WOMAN THE COMMODITY

Factories and many manufacturing processes saw the benefit of using
fem-power as a cheap, renewable source of energy. It. was
environmentally acceptable, pleasurable to look at, and eased the burden
on the storage units as the numbers of arrested women rose to
unmanageable levels.
With a kind of reverse logic, robotic machines were replaced by
Robo-Fems. These were women clad with various items from the robotics
industry to perform delicate tasks. The expensive, high tech controlling
computers of full robotics were no longer needed. All that was required
now was a basic control computer | that would force or induce the
Robo-Fem to move her work. instrument roughly to the vicinity of the
task. The final, delicate movements required were then left to the brain
of the Robo-Fem. They had to complete the task or endure painful and
prolonged chastisement from the computer in the form of electrical
correction currents or enforced, extreme physical motion using the
mover units built into their attachments.
It hadn't occurred to designers that the same operations had been
carried out hundreds of years before by females uncluttered with
robotic paraphernalia. As a result, the built-on. gadgets were slowly
masking the unfortunate female component. of this living machine from
view as arms, legs and torso were adorned with excruciatingly tight
metallised fittings and sheaths
on which to mount various cumbersome, claw-like devices and control
mechanisms; devices that didn't even approach the flexibility and
dexterity of the average female hand.
A later development brought about by workers’ der ids saw the Robo-Fems
programmed to please male supervisors at the press of a button. Instead
of programming the female to crave for sex by SS training, it was found
much more enjoyable to program her attachments to offer her in a
suitable position at the touch of a button. The loud, screaming abusive
protests as they were used for what amounted to autonomous male
masturbation, were usually cut off by using another button that sealed
their metallised lips as if zipped closed. It was found to be far more
satisfying to thoroughly use a helpless, furiously protesting female,
than to relieve one’s lust in an object that wantonly invited ravishment. -
By the end of the first year after their introduction, the only areas
unmetallized on Robo-Fems were upper face, pubic region, and of course
those irreplaceable mounds called breasts.
It became a common sight in factories to see a Robo-Fem suddenly cease
production and march mechanically to the centre of the shop floor,.
spread legs and bend forward before becoming immobile. Only the
vitriolic language would give the clue that she had been selected and
programmed by a control room operative for a good screwing, and that she
was powerless to override the metallised, controlling sheaths on her
limbs. Sooner or later the operative would appear, and flicking a switch
on her back, silence her protests into angry impotent muffled MMMMMppphhs!
She would be thoroughly shagged, then left standing in a spread-legged
posture. Her well used orifice would then drain in a humiliating series
of long pussy-drools before she was reenergised and returned to her task.
Male management were, of course, provided with a sex vending machine.
These machines were on every floor of most office complexes, and
displayed through the glass front were rows of
neatly trussed and banded females, shrink-wrapped in sterile, hygienic
wrappers. The were bound into a variety of compressed and contorted
positions to cater for all tastes, but always with female parts left
showing outward. Unlike Robo-Fems, they were packed for vending
completely naked. Alongside each was a photo of the packaged woman, nude
and unfettered, standing in a provocative hands-on-hips pose, often
taken by husbands before they were aware that they were destined for a
SAC unit. Also listed were her origins and many highly personal details
to aid selection. Having made one’s choice, one simply inserted a £5000
coin, pressed the button of your choice, and the machine delivered the
squirming, unwrapped, but still trussed woman to
a mounting chute at the side, ready for a quick relief of pent up male
lust!
Before final selection there were options one could select, the most
favourite being a silenced version, unless you required oral servicing.
For normal silencing, a huge expando-gag was automatically inserted
and adjusted by the machine before delivery. But if one required the
oral cavity for use, the selection would be fitted with a massive, jaw
stretching ‘O’ shaped mouth-jack to prevent bites.
Once finished, the vendor would press another button and the used
selection was removed via a second chute for cleansing and repackaging.
The cleansing was very thorough and included high pressure internal
flushing in addition to the normal external wash. One could be sure
that any recycled unit in the
machine's available stock was absolutely sterilised and safe to use.
In many cases these Robo-Fems were used for tasks that had beaten
machines by fouling or damaging their workings. RoboFems were
virtually impervious to liquids which made them ideal for many wet,
messy tasks.
For example, a Robo-Fem could work for days repairing a valve or
pipeline, up to her neck in sewage, cow droppings, or similarly
offensive liquid matter, whereas a machine would have clogged and ground
to a stop in a matter of hours. Later models fitted
with snorkels could even work completely submerged. Those fitted with
fully metallised openings could be sealed completely at the touch of a
button. Problems had arisen earlier in the development of these
mechanised females. Sealing switches were inadvertently left on, and
Robo-Fems had gone berserk as the pressure of un-dumpable body wastes
built up. These small technical hitches had been overcome with pressure
warning devices fitted into bladders and colons.
The retail trades also benefited from this new resource. Mannequins
and display dummies were far more expensive and less flexible than
controllable, living dummies. Besides, displaying clothes and equipment
on moving models sold better. As a result, most shops had several
mechanised dummies marching around their window displays. Of course, if
the chosen Robodummy was unfortunate, she would be selected to
demonstrate sex aids in a sex shop window. This would entail shoving an
endless variety of newly designed, and sometimes experimental dildos
into her lower orifices for the benefit of potential customers.
Alternatively, they would unwillingly perform erotic and sometimes
painful contortions on items of bondage equipment.
Whatever task they were undertaking, it was beyond their capacity to
refuse. The base computer would simply place them in any position or
mode of movement programmed, and they would have to obey the powerful,
limb-sheathing casings.
The government had been forced to legislate in the case of sex shops
after the unfortunate incident of a rogue base computer and a careless
shop window dresser.
The display was to have been of the illuminated overnight variety,
programmed to switch on at midnight. Unfortunately, the window dresser
had left a display dildo of incredible proportions lying around. The
dildo was supposed to be for attracting customers only, being of a size
never designed to fit inside even the largest woman. However, whether by
mistake or malicious intent, the base computer had switched on and swung
the Robodummy to her task. Unfortunately, the first phallic object to
come into sight of its sensors was the display sample. The next
morning a muted and screaming, fully zipper-gagged Robo-Fem was observed
helplessly jamming the massive device repeatedly into her hugely
stretched pussy. She had spent the whole night demonstrating how it was
possible to get a nine inch diameter dildo into a one inch diameter pussy.
The government banned all overnight displays as a result. It was
considered in poor taste to allow a woman to abuse and enjoy herself in
such a way, especially in public.
And still the storage units were filling to overload levels. Women were
almost an unwanted by-product of the modern age. As soon as uses for one
were found, ten more would arrive to be crammed into the unit. It was
not unusual to find three or four women trussed together in the most
ingenious configurations simulating an oral servicing of each other,
before being packed tightly into a single cube and frozen as an almost
solid cubic mass of desirable femininity.
Often, to make more space in the FT units, these multi-cube packages
were auctioned off as ornaments for large mansions of the rich, complete
with mini refrigeration units to maintain their frozen status. It was
common practice for these cubic atrocities to be sited at the end of the
nuptial bed to aid libido. The cruelty of knowing that these
pathetically arranged females could hear every sound of the sexual
activity, whilst unable to respond in any way to relieve their own
sexual frustration, was never even considered by the owners.
One didn’t buy the exhibit, merely the long term lease. The frozen
contents remained the property of the state and the terms of the lease
allowed repossession at any time if the occupants were required for some
other use. ; -
With the development of auto-feed and auto-waste attachments, new
avenues of use were opened for re-animated females. Previously, the use
of SAC outputs would have been prohibited in many instances by the huge
logistical problem of servicing a wider usage. But now, an installed
Robo-Fem could be left
unattended for up to twelve months and serviced entirely by auto units
built into her mechanised outer cladding, Even devices to detect
physical human defects would transmit warnings to central computer and
ensure swift replacement of the defective unit. Or their modus operandi
could be reprogrammed from
central computer without the need of a service crew visiting the actual
unit on site.
With these innovations, women-kind reached a new all time low.
Sensuously shaped traffic bollards which gave actual arm signals,
replaced the old electrically lit, dull lifeless units. Skyway
signals, robot lights, advertising signs, street sex vending machines, -
the list of female torment and usage was endless!
Even the expensive and highly complex meteorological weather rockets
were replaced by these Robo-fems. It was much cheaper
to simply attach rocket boosters to a metallised Robo-Fem and launch her
into the stratosphere.
The living computer of a human brain was infinitely more flexible than
its micro-chip counterpart, and the minuscule cost of short duration
life support systems were cheaper to maintain and run. The basic
component was free, a waste product in fact, and in plentiful supply!
Once launched, this pre-trained living computer would relay visual
information back to ground control before plunging back into the lower
atmosphere to be collected by specially equipped, recovery hover-jets.
The streamlined rocket casing design was superseded. For such short
duration, relatively low velocity flights, the female form was
adequately aerodynamic for the purpose. The only concessions to
streamlining were the pointed cones mounted on the head and the
directional control fins on the ankles; as exemplified in the latest
Titan models. Earlier Agena boosted vehicles had proved unsatisfactory
because of their designers’ obsession with aesthetics!
The female occupant was arched diabolically backwards, projecting her
steel encased, conically shaped boobs upwards like surreal, twin nose
cones. Heating problems generated
during re-entry caused by a high drag co-efficient forced the design
team to produce a more practical Mark II version. Mark Is were taken out
of service and displayed as frozen exhibits in various Science and
Astronomy Museums.

There was no doubt that other forms of cheap, sub-space vehicles could
have been developed. But then, there wouldn't have been the same
undeniable pleasure for the male operatives in controlling these
devices. How much more enjoyable it was to have a live woman encased in
such a monstrous device, designed specifically so as to leave no doubt
as to the contents. The metal skin was flawless and excruciatingly
tight, hugging curves and hollows like a second skin, and leaving no
secrets of the woman's form undisclosed. As a general rule only the most
shapely, and if possible, the most difficult and unrepentant women were
chosen for the task. It was much more satisfying to press the launch
button on a female you knew was seething with rage, and then watch her
form rocketing helplessly upwards. Her aggressive demands for release
relaying through the speakers were instantly converted to pleading,
fearful cries as she rose from the pad on a pillar of flame.
It may be of interest to mention other features of the Meteorological
Rocket Robo-Fem. Her lower openings, both vaginal and rectal, were
perfect receptacles for miniaturised guidance and telecom equipment.
Even after a crash landing, the equipment could be recovered undamaged
due the resilient, living packaging around it. A further consideration
was the protection afforded against the deep, penetrating cold on the
fringe of Earth's atmosphere, which was negated by the warmth of the
woman's body. Unfortunately, the woman usually required a low level re animation to bring her back from the first levels of hypothermia. The
outer layer of rime on her frost encrusted metal skin would be melted
during re-entry, but the inner, soft centre of the rocket would still be
half frozen when the recovery craft drew her in.
However, having mentioned miniaturised inserts, it would be as well to
point out that there was still sufficient bulk to ensure the woman was
packed to bursting point before being encased
and launched. It was amusing to think that all the data being
transmitted was emanating from deep within a beautiful woman's hot
little pussy, or the dark forbidden recess of her rear passage as she
sped helplessly through the outer reaches of the atmosphere.
When riding in a hover jet, it was quite common to see a gleaming, metal
female-shaped statue streaking sky-wards past the observation windows.
None of the comfortably cosseted passengers ever seemed to consider what
it would be like for the rigidly encased woman inside that rocket
powered form. Rocket launch teams had grown immune to the desperate
pleadings of Rocket-Fems as they closed and secured the face visors
prior to blast off. It was of little consequence to them that the
delicate, warm, scented, living female inside would soon be subjected to
awesome acceleration and G forces, frictional heating of her
containment, and the terrible fear of being launched hundreds. of miles
high. Not to mention the stomach wrenching experience of high
velocity re-entry!
But perhaps the worst moments were those terrifying, lonely ‘minutes out
on that vast launching pad, secured to a launch tower, encased in steel,
and strapped to enough high explosive to level a small city block. Then
to feel the rocket boosters building to full power as the count-down
continued. They would: struggle and cry, their pleading voices echoing
through the control room speakers, but the launch crew just ignored
them, secure in the knowledge that the skin-tight steel casing would
hold the Robo-fem firmly rigid for flight.
“Two! One! Zero!” We have lift off.”
The terrified woman would feel immense vibration as the boosters reached
full power, then the clank as the launch tower's retaining clamps
released. This was followed by a dizzying acceleration as she watched
the ground recede and the buildings and people dwindle to dots. The
crushing 'G’ forces pummelling her body would increase to unbearable
levels as she observed the cloud layers flash past, and she would now
feel the true fear of being a human projectile. A stiffened column of
womanhood
hurtling helplessly into the heavens on a roaring column of flame!
As if once was not enough, they were designed to be reusable. After
recovery and refuelling of the rocket boosters, servicing of the
occupant would be carried out, then they would repeat the operation as
soon as more data was needed.
A few Rocket-Fems would be missed by the recovery craft, but this was of
no consequence. Below a certain altitude a drogue chute would open, and
the boosters be detached to fall away. Then a main chute deployed that
allowed the rocket to descend nose first. Impact would trigger a small
homer so that the rocket could be located later.
Often farmers would report such landings when they complained about a
Rocket-Fem embedded nose first in a field or haystack. Recovery of such
wayward rockets would often reveal damage to internal equipment due to
unauthorised removal of inspection covers and equipment, and use of the
warm equipment recesses by the farmers. But who could blame them? It
is not often that one is lucky enough to receive a helpless, metal
encased package of shapely erotica from the skies. As a result, reports
of such landings were usually days after launch, especially if the
homer had been damaged by impact, or in some cases deliberately broken
off by the farmer.
Subversives convicted and sentenced to hundreds of years in FT units
were given the option to atone for their crimes by doing something
useful for the state. Many chose the somewhat dubious option of being
used as deep space probes. As a concession to the fact that they were
human, the probes usually contained a bonded pair. Two of the
subversives would find themselves attracted and choose the other as her
companion for the long flight. Some, in the cases of malfunctioning
systems, to be lost forever in the vast expanse of the universe. A tiny
speck of female matter hurtling out of the galaxy and into the unknown. 
They were bonded back to back to facilitate easy connections to nipples,
clitoris, orifice implants and the like. But this didn’t prevent sexual
gratification. All centres of sexual arousal were also connected by
thousands of tiny wires and fibre optics, connecting nipples,
clitorises, vagina’s etc. Whatever arousal one woman experienced, would
be duplicated in her partner's sexual regions. Arousal itself was not a
choice. For one hundred years the capsule would keep them frozen with
only brains alive to record and relay information back to earth via
implanted telecom links. Then the onboard computer would re-animate them
and commence stimulation via the implanted devices in their orifices. At
the same time, electronic impulses to brain
centres controlling sexual urges would add a powerful stimulus to the
event.
For a week the women would be a distant speck of orgasmic anguish as
each Robo-Fem experienced the double torment of her own unleashed and
enhanced lust, and that of her partner. Then the computer would freeze
them back into solid blocks of encapsulated womanhood for another
hundred years. The whole affair was not designed to be pleasurable, but
simply to keep muscles in tone. Pleasure was an unavoidable side effect
that
was not necessarily desirable for convicts undergoing punishment. _ ;
For the lost probes, this would remain the unbreakable schedule for
millions, possibly trillions of years. Long after Earth and all its
problems had ceased to exist, there would be RoboFems gasping and
writhing in orgasmic torment and bliss throughout the heavens, and
although there was no longer anyone listening, they would still
faithfully be transmitting data back to their long-gone human point of
origin.
As it happened, one such probe and its cargo of femininity was to be
responsible for the first expansion of mankind into the stars!
It would go unnoticed that one of the occupants of Deep Space Probe
QQ4-5656 was in the early stages of pregnancy when she was incarcerated
in the probe. One and a half million years later
her baby boy would be born on a planet in the outer regions of the
constellation of Andromeda. Freed from her nightmare confinement in the
probe by low intelligence, ape-like creatures, the woman went on to
complete the last eight months of a pregnancy, prolonged into millions
of years by her suspended, animated state. The two women from this probe
went on to breed a new race from this sole male offspring. A race that
was to be powerful and influential throughout the galaxy. It was ironic
that because of a weak male gene in the species, due to an overworked
single male at the outset, females would outnumber males 250 to 1 in
that distant future world.
Women would rule with a vengeance, and all from the seed of two
pathetic, pitiful female prisoners in a metal capsule. Men would be
reduced to federation owned breeding stock that could be leased for use;
or alternatively milked for their precious sperm.
Strangely enough, the device used to secure these milker males in their
thousands would be almost identical to an ancient device called a Ringer
frame! Hanging exposed and helpless, the rows of dangling penises would
be encased in pulsing milker tubes which would endlessly suck the
precious sperm from their bodies for storage and later sale.
Resisting males would be attended to by specially chosen Milker-maids; -
statuesque females of exceptional beauty and proportions. These naked
sex goddesses would visit a recalcitrant male and fondle his testicle
sack until he lost control. Having obtained the fluid they required, he
would be punished as they increased the milker tube to a suction that
could not be broken, and then tensioned the whole device downwards,
stretching the unfortunate male’s manhood to incredible, eye watering
length. Then he would be caned unmercifully on his presented buttocks,
before being left stretched for twenty-four hours.
Some Milk-maids enjoyed strapping on an immense, double ended dildo and
using the Ringer’d males for their own pleasure. Unfortunately, the
male’s only orifice was far less accommodating than the female’s
custom designed hole when it came to
objects of this girth. Other maids contented themselves by ungagging the
helpless male and demanding the use of his tongue in their lust drenched
pussies. The male could usually be | convinced to carry out the task
with a few well applied cuts of the cane to his vulnerable, dangling
testicle sack.
Somewhat closer to home, enterprising, high powered executives
latched onto the idea of Jet powered Robo-Fems as good public relations
gimmicks. A female trained in SS techniques | would be pre-programmed
with a message, then launched to the far side of the globe as a living
letter. She would be retrieved and deliver her message to the addressee,
and then be used sexually before being launched for the return journey.
These Robo-Fem_ letters were chosen for their silky, soft sensuous
voices, and.
exceptional shapes, which usually ensured the rapt attention of the
recipient.
The major drawback to this kind of work was that the addressees of
such mail, and indeed the services offered by the unwilling, fettered
female, usually preferred to remain anonymous. As a result, the Robo-Fem
letter girls spent their entire working life as blindfolded, radio
controlled objects flitting across the skies.
The configuration of these sub space Robo-Fem letters was somewhat
different to the high altitude Rocket-Fems. This was. due to the fact
that they acted more as cruise missiles, and needed to be sexually
available without recourse to extensive dismantling of their casing. As
a result, a Ringer frame configuration was adopted and then fitted
with short stubby wings. The directional stabilisers then doubled as
stand legs when the mini aircraft had landed, and enabled the recipient
to place the craft. in a desirable position for screwing its central unit.
The whole idea was not exactly welcomed by the inmates graduating from
SAC units, but pleasurable for males, and the lucky ‘free females’. It
was exciting to have the sky filled with such heavenly bodies! And for
the odd enterprising collector, jamming radio control signals and
feeding in new landing
coordinates could produce a nice crop of pre-packed, helpless” toys to
have fun with.
And so the technical innovations and advances into the use of females
continued. Generally speaking, a woman was born to be used as a tool of
one sort or another unless they were the offspring of someone already in
a position of power. The more
fortunate of the unprotected were selected as Pet-toys, and enjoyed a
relatively low usage life.
Working class women who were married accepted that sooner. or later
their husbands would tire of them and have them sent to a SAC unit so
they could indulge themselves with a newer model. If they were lucky,
these converted wives would be
reclaimed by their husbands as a playthings for the next lady in their
lives.
But even the Pet-toy could not entirely escape the advances of science,
which in some form or another would find its way into the domestic
setting. Tammy, Bimbo, 187, Blondie, and Miriam | were no exceptions.
With their owners both Senior officers, or in John's case, with
connections to SAC units, it was a certainty that they would always be
among the first domestic pets to experience new innovations that would
bring pleasure to their owners!


CHAPTER TEN
DOMESTIC EVENTS

Tammy had tired of tormenting Bimbo for the present and had persuaded
the Captain to de-animate her for a while. Brigette had agreed and left
Tammy to prepare the luckless Bimbo for her frozen vacation. She
returned from work later in the day to find a startling new ornament in
the hallway.
Bimbo had been trussed into the tightest bundle imaginable. A shiny
chrome pole had been inserted into her rectum. The pole continued
outside her enclosure for some two to three feet. After freezing, the
whole assembly, cube, woman, and pole, had been propped on a base,
leaving the solidly frozen Bimbo perched on a rectal support.
Most ingenious Brigette thought as she surveyed the exciting spectacle,
noting the other special effects of ballooning, cinched breasts, plugged
and stretched pussy and gagged mouth! Bimbo certainly made an attractive
ornament. She tapped on the cube’s outer surface and smiled. Bimbo would
know she was being scrutinised and was powerless to do anything in her
rock solid state of sub zero hell. She would be praying that the
knocking noise was the signal for her re-animation, and yet in her heart
 knowing that her stay in the cube was liable to stretch into months or
even years.
Tammy appeared and approached her mistress; she was fully Walker’d and
ready for anything the Captain desired. After attending to Bimbo, she
had toileted, fed, and bathed herself, then refitted her expando-gag and
re-clamped her wrists.
Captain Sommes frowned as she checked the gag, then reached up gave the
adjuster another three turns.
“Getting a little sloppy aren't we 266? Any more lax behaviour like that
and you can join Bimbo as a matching set!” Tammy was duly impressed and
vowed silently to make sure she expanded the gag to much higher levels
in the future.
“Okay, I've got some new equipment being delivered after tea, so in the
meantime you can take some exercise while I freshen up.” Tammy turned
and walked over to the exercise belt then stood patiently as Brigette
connected her control rod to the rear of the machine. The machine
whirred into action, and Tammy was speeded up to a brisk walk. The
Captain seemed satisfied with the pace, and after a few minutes of
fondling Tammy's rolling buttocks, she left her pet to the mercy of the
machine.
Tammy was still pounding the belt an hour later as the new equipment
arrived, and watched apprehensively as crate after crate were carried
into the lounge beyond her vision. Captain Sommes, checking in each
crate, smiled wickedly in the direction of her strutting pet, and
Tammy's heart sank. Whatever it was, her mistress was surely enjoying
the thought of her being a part of it. Such enthusiasm rarely meant
anything other than an extremely testing ordeal for pet number 266!
The intriguing device took the delivery crew another forty-five minutes
to assemble. Finally they departed with the empty | crates as Tammy
trembled with nervous anticipation.
Brigette appeared and Tammy’s eyes opened wide in disbelief. She was
radiantly beautiful and infinitely desirable to male or female. Gone
were the relatively tight fitting accoutrements of. her officer's
uniform. They had been replaced by a stunning outfit based on ancient
photos of twentieth century dominitrixes. | The whole outfit was
manufactured from skin-cloth, a replacement for the latex of that
era. The material was exactly the same in quality, feel, and texture,
but had the advantage of being indestructible and could be polished to a
glittering shine.
Captain Sommes moved purposefully forward, exaggerating her hip swinging
walk for the benefit of 266. She knew this
superb pet-toy enjoyed the touch of a woman, and was actively promoting
arousal in the watching captive.
Tammy stared longingly at the dominant, feline apparition. Such a woman
could gladly do anything she wanted, it would be a pleasure to submit to
such a powerfully presented figure. Her eyes wandered over the costume
and noted every small detail with relish and warm, pleasant feelings.
Brigette’s legs and feet were encased in super high-heeled boots,
stretching smoothly to her thighs. Her shapely, firm upper legs emerged
in a mesh of tight, seamed, net hosiery and climbed to the graceful,
inviting curves of her amply rounded buttocks and the vee of her crotch.
The pouting, fully developed pussy was clad in a diaphanous ‘G’ string
pouch which was unable to muffle completely the faint, gentle purr of a
secreted vibrator buried in her love tube. A slight flush on the
Captain’s face was sufficient to inform the onlooker that its gentle
titillation was already having an effect! 
Brigette’s torso was clad in a gleaming, waist cinching Basque that
sculptured and shaped her figure to hourglass perfection and presented
her breasts in a most desirable way. Continuing upward, it swept between
the breasts in a narrowed band to j with a spiked collar of similar
material.
The Captain's face rounded off the apparition with heavy, stark eye
make-up and black lipstick. This creation was topped by a severely
scooped hairstyle; a tight bun perched on top of her head, ringed and
secured in place by another smaller spiked band.
The grimly smiling vamp bore down upon her prey, and Tammy shivered with
a delightful premonition as her mistress switched off the exerciser and
released the helpless pet-toy.
Brigette stripped Tammy of the Walker, at the same time taking full
advantage of her naked form to slide gloved hands over her curves, Then
she swivelled her precious pet-toy and propelled her gently, yet firmly,
towards the lounge.
Tammy faltered as she saw the assembled device. At first she thought it
was a punishment cubicle from the SAC classroom, but on closer
inspection, discovered some vital differences!
She sat as instructed on a nearby chair and continued to study the booth
as the Captain fitted a twin boot to her ankles. Only when she looked
down did Tammy realise that the item had no heels and was designed to
hold her calves as one unit. There was also something she recognised
from earlier experiences; a huge, powerful ring in the toe piece.
Her arms, still in front, were squeezed into a special arm sheath that
soon had them compressed and secured into a single unit ending in
another steel ring. Tammy glanced back to the cabinet and saw centrally
placed securing points at both top and bottom. No mystery there. She was
going to be stretched and suspended between the two points. The mystery
remained in the many small, dish like fittings situated in all corners
of the booth.
Smirking, Brigette helped her to her feet and balanced her as _she
hopped awkwardly over to the booth. Her assumptions were correct. Within
seconds of entering the unit, built-in tensioning devices had stretched
her to breaking point and left her suspended as an awesomely sensuous
pillar of vibrant womanhood.
Her gag was replaced with a helmet and gag arrangement, and then the
Captain began to affix strange, self adhesive discs to the edges of her
pussy, around her nipples and, after prising her clenching bottom cheeks
open, around her anal ring. A mocking wave, and she closed the door!
Tammy hung in a turmoil of dread and excited anticipation. She felt even
more convinced that this was something really new and rigorous. She
could see the Captain programming some sort | of controller and
straining her eyes, Tammy looked through the transparent walls of her
confinement for other clues to her impending ordeal.
Her eyes alighted on a missed packaging label down beside one _ of the
chairs and her eyes opened wide in trepidation as she read the legend.
MICROWAVE STIMULATION AND DISPLAY UNIT! But her mind only absorbed the
first word!
Oh! God! She was trapped in a microwave oven! Her mistress ‘intended to
barbecue her! Tammy's struggles became frantic, but were useless and
barely achieved any noticeable movement due to the tension on her body.
Sobbing and desperately fighting her restraints, she was unaware that
Brigette had finished her preparations and was watching her panic with
some alarm.
“Now! Now! You sweet thing. Don't be afraid; you'll love this once you
get used to it.” Tammy stopped her struggles and looked at the Captain,
willing her mind to believe that she had been mistaken. The Captain was
not going to torture her to death!
Captain Sommes saw her regain composure, and operated a switch on the
panel. At first nothing happened, then, as the -machine warmed up, Tammy
felt a delightfully pleasant vibration spreading all through her body.
The adhesive disks were obviously intended to concentrate this effect,
because wherever they were placed she could feel the vibrations at a
much higher level.
It was obvious to Tammy that modern technology had come up with a low
energy microwave that was harmless to humans. ‘Harmless from a cooking
point of view; highly destructive when
considering its erotic effect!
Brigette adjusted the machine and the vibrations grew stronger. ‘With
the touch of another button by her tormentor, Tammy found her stretched
form begin to rotate very slowly and at the same time warm, comforting
lights bathed her body in an orange glow. It was a beautiful feeling,
and Tammy knew that she would never be able to resist the growing
feeling of lustful pleasure generated by the softly pulsing vibrations
over her whole form.
She could see that the Captain was seated and watching, then saw her
pick up a book and begin to read.
Tammy felt the surge of masochistic pleasure rise higher as she _
understood the nature of the Captain's scheme.
She had reduced 266 toa pleasant background decoration of visual,
exotically sensuous movements. Her revolving, titillated form would
generate pleasant feelings in the Captain as she relaxed with her book
and enjoyed the undeniable sexual appeal of her own apparel.
But although Tammy was comfortable with the present level of
stimulation, she couldn't know that the booth was designed to maintain a
steady increase in the strength of the vibrations.
A half hour later, Tammy was fully aware of this fact as she writhed and
twisted in Paroxysms of unending orgasm. The vibrations were penetrating
to her very core and dancing powerfully around all her centres of
arousal. Orgasm could not quench the demanding needs of her beleaguered
form, for no sooner had she exploded with one massive eruption of lust,
than another volcano began to grow in her superheated love channel!
She thrashed and screamed into the gag. She begged for release from her
torment, unaware that the sounds of her demise were being piped directly
to the earphones on Brigette’s head. Tammy thought her mistress was
listening to some light music and didn’t hear her. She was listening to
music, alright! The song of a woman in perpetual arousal!
Captain Sommes rose and Tammy was sure relief was at hand. But she
merely smiled as she passed and disappeared into the kitchen. Minutes
later she returned with a cup of coffee and stood studying the rotating
pillar of torment.
Tammy saw her put the cup down and begin to massage her breasts as she
watched the turning pet-toy's torment. It was obvious that she was
extracting infinitely exquisite enjoyment from watching the ceaselessly
rippling form of her pet. She could feel the woman's gaze on her
frantically clenching, pumping nates and the mind-bending ripples of her
whole body as she was racked by orgasmic frenzy!
Brigette adjusted the controls, and Tammy felt herself drawn into a
quivering bow-string as the tensioners moved even further apart, then
the micro wave vibrations increased dramatically.
“MMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” 
“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!”
Her screams for mercy rose to a crescendo, but the Captain simply
returned to her chair and resumed reading.
Another hour passed pleasantly for the Captain, and traumatically for the writhing display. Then the doorbell chimed and the Captain
rose to greet her guests. Tammy barely registered the beaming face of
Major Cunningham and her pet 187, peering through the glass walls of her
prison. When she did, it was to see Brenda attired almost identically to
Brigette, and 187 wearing a look of stunned shock as she
watched her counterpart endure the microwave display unit. Her look
changed to one of concern as she came to the inevitable conclusion that
Brenda would surely want to see her own pet perform in the dreaded
chamber of indescribable pleasure and torment!
187's Walker was secured near to the booth to ensure she wouldn't miss
any detail of her forthcoming incarceration, and with pitying eyes she
absorbed every tiny nuance of Tammy's endless, orgasmic performance. The
earphones had been disconnected and a speaker switched in, so that all
present could share the sounds of torment.
187 looked at the captive’s wide, bloodshot pleading eyes, then lowered
her gaze to the rivulets of syrupy love juice coursing down Tammy’s
legs. She could see the pulsing contractions in all the spasming muscles
around Tammy's pubic mouth and could only guess at the shattering
torment she was enduring. Even as she watched, 187 was experiencing her
own arousal as she remembered the dual ordeal she had shared with this
pet-toy at SAC-94. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like
to be bound to that writhing woman and enduring the same feelings and
stimulation!
Brenda must have been telepathic, because it was less than thirty
minutes before 187 found herself screaming and writhing in torment and
pleasure as she squirmed and twisted against the warm, cavorting body of
her co-sufferer.
Brigette and Brenda enjoyed a wonderful evening, playing with vibrators
and the like. Meanwhile, a never-ending, rotating double column of
sensuously cavorting womanhood ensured that they were kept at full
arousal by the fruits of the visual display!


CHAPTER ELEVEN
AUTO BIMBO!

Tammy was becoming bored with the hallway ornament!
It seemed so wasteful to have Bimbo just hovering there on her anal pole
when she could be suffering far more humiliating and traumatic
experiences. For eight months the bitch had just perched there,
unmolested, unmoving, and unpunished for her
treachery. But what could be done with her that had not already be done?
Captain Sommes came up with the answer some weeks later as she was
discussing a new development in transport with her colleague.
Apparently, a new single fem-unit, high performance shopping vehicle had
been developed. It required no maintenance at all due to the sealed
power unit. It was silent, and could run on the latest recycled, high
energy fuel supplement. The price was incredibly low. At 4.5 million
pounds it was way below anything else on offer.
Tammy's ears perked up. This sounded like the sort of employment Bimbo
would enjoy, if only she could convince her mistress!
As it happened, some two hours later she was in a position to broach the
subject as Brigette left her ungagged whilst preparing her for the night
as a trussed bed comforter. She came straight out with her idea and
waited for the Captain's response. It didn't pay to beat around the bush
with Brigette; she preferred straight talking. The Captain paused and
looked thoughtful.
“Well, now that you mention it, it would solve a problem that’s been
bothering me for some time. Those shopping trips with the Walker-trailer
have been building up your muscles too much. I
don’t like muscle-bound toys! I prefer you nice and soft! Pliable and
stretchy pets suit me!”
Tammy wasn’t quite sure that muscle was such a bad thing. Having the
muscle power to withstand some of her mistress’
rigorous ideas was useful; but then she was only a pet and had no say in
the matter.
“Yes, I think it could be a good idea for you to have a shopping car.
I'll check into it and see if Bimbo is suitable as a power unit.”
Several days passed before anything came of it. And when it did, Tammy's
first knowledge of Bimbo's acceptance was to find her missing from the
hallway. A quick search of the house soon confirmed she was gone.
Impatiently, Tammy waited, and as the Captain swished up the drive that
evening in her hover-car, Tammy was there to meet her. She was fully
Walker'd, expandogag opened to mouth bursting levels, and an inquiring
look that even Brigette couldn't fail to understand. The Captain smiled,
noting the exceptionally severe gagging Tammy had done to herself,
understanding that her pet wanted to please so that she could find out
about Bimbo.
“Don’t fret 266. You'll have your new car in three days, they're
assembling it now. Then it has to be tested and tuned.”
Tammy was like a dog with two tails. The mere thought of her most hated,
arch-bitch being assembled into the engine of her new car brought hot
waves of pleasure to her groin!
The three days seemed to crawl and the Captain, understanding her
impatience, was tolerant of a rather mediocre performance from her pet
during that time. But she wasn't unduly worried. Once 266 had her Bimbo
powered car, the pet would be only too pleased to find an outlet for the
raging lust such a crushing revenge would bring.
The car arrived, and almost with a sort of reverence, Tammy walked
around the machine in awe. Bimbo was not to be seen.
In fact, the vehicle looked like a moon buggy more than a car. It sat on
four fat wheels with a spindly chassis of lightweight dural alloy, and a
plexiglass, egg shaped passenger compartment. Behind that was the
covered area for carrying shopping. Tammy moved to the front were the
engine was situated. She stared at the gleaming steel tube with its
strange bulbous end, and could scarcely believe that Bimbo was encased,
gagged,
banded, clamped, bolted, and forged into a strained, working
configuration within its confines.
She tried to stoop and peer into the glass inspection panel on the
bulbous end, but her strict Walker back-stiffener prevented it. Brigette
released her and she nodded her thanks before. kneeling to look up into
the glass.
Bimbo's pleading eyes stared back, and Tammy knew that the sounds of her
attempts to gain mercy were loud within the confines of the cylinder,
but not a single murmur escaped the. soundproofing. Eagerly Tammy
climbed into the passenger shell | and sat looking at the controls. For
ten minutes the delivery driver instructed her on how to use them, and
then she was ready for her first trip in the new car.
She looked puppy-like at the Captain, and to her everlasting joy
received a nod of approval. .
“And make sure you're back in two hours!” Brigette cautioned | with a
smile. I'll be needing you.
Tammy closed the door, and with trembling fingers reached for the
energiser switch. She knew that Bimbo would have felt the car rocking as
she got in, and now the encapsulated woman. must be fearfully
anticipating her first outing with a vengeful driver at the controls.
She turned the switch and a slight tremor ran through the vehicle. At
first she thought that it wasn’t working, but glancing at the rev
counter, she saw the proof that Bimbo was already experiencing
horrendously unwanted contortions as she pulsed smoothly away in her
cylinder. She paused as she was about to engage the drive gears and
looked down at the engine housing.
It seemed so unreal to imagine that only the thickness of a sheet of
dural alloy separated her from that helplessly reciprocating,
electronically animated bitch in her own personal chamber of horrors.
Oh! yes, revenge was so sweet!
She laughed triumphantly to herself and engaged the gear, then applying
a little throttle, allowed the car to accelerate smoothly down the
drive. There was no indication at all of the pounding, muscle jerking
autonomous torment so close at hand, but she could imagine Bimbo
fighting her restraining bands and mountings; desperately attempting to
resist the impulses that were forcing her to jackknife and straighten
with monotonous regularity. Frantically, she would be trying to clench
her thighs against intrusion of the double speed, high performance dildo
plundering her pussy. She would be screaming for mercy and yet knowing
she could expect none!
Gently, mindful of the delivery driver's warning to run the car in, she
increased the speed up to half throttle, thrilled by the fact that the
slightest pressure of her foot could so easily control the muscle
jerking torment of the woman in the cylinder. Apparently it took a
couple of weeks for the engine's muscles to adapt to the constant,
limited use in these short stroke engines, so she would curb the impulse
to floor the pedal and send the rev-counter zooming into the red. That
little treat she could save for later. In any case, Bimbo would be
suffering enough torment even at this speed.
This revolutionary new design was a long way ahead of the earlier open
engined roadsters. The sealed power unit need never be opened at all.
Everything necessary to service the fem-unit inside was built in.
The pressurised, higher oxygen content of the cylinder increased
efficiency, and a short stroke crank, and high revving engine meant
greater flexibility at lower speeds.
The anal spark-plug was modified into dual-purpose spark electrodes and
a solid waste extractor.
Additional pad electrodes were placed directly on the femunit’s power
muscles to increase performance.
An over-geared dildo reciprocator was added to increase stimulation to
the vaginal socket.
Fuel Injection was by means of nasal tubes extending via the fem-unit's
throat to her stomach.
A catheter waste fluid removal system was installed, linked to the fuel
injection and recycling systems
Recycled fuel was supplied by the sewage farms. The average human is
wasteful in their conversion of natural resources. AS a result,
effluents produced are only partially converted and the rest dumped.
Sewage is therefore high in reusable proteins, carbohydrates, fats, and
vitamins. With the new processes, these valuable commodities could be
removed and separated from true wastes, then recycled into a
texture less, foul tasting soup, of high energy value.
No matter how good the advertising, free people simply refused to use
the stuff. As a result, almost all fem-units and Robo-Fems of the
various types were obliged to use the growing mountain of unsaleable
product.
They had no choice!
Injection feeders removed that luxury. The same applied to this new
design. Each night, when the engine was switched off, a micro chip would
assess the energy requirements of the fem-unit and inject her with the
supplement. Like it or not, Bimbo would be eating recycled crap from now
on. Then her anal waste unit would cut in and vacuum her of the previous
day's wastes. Any useable residue detected would be re-cycled and
re-introduced into the fem-unit at the next injection giving a fifteen
percent saving in fuel costs. It was a very fuel efficient system.
After these basic needs had been met, the built in, ultra-violet lights
would illuminate the body of t] n-unit, restoring her to a useful
condition.
The short stroke engine meant that Bimbo would be semi folded for all
her working life. Her thighs and buttocks only flexed half of the normal
stroke before being returned to full compression for the next power
stroke. The adverse effect of this was to
deny her any relaxation whatsoever from the skin taut, buttock
protruding configuration. Nor did it help to ease the trauma of the
perpetual shafting of her stretched pubic lips. The car may have been an
innovation for the driver, but it was living hell for the engine unit!
Another problem, as yet to be discovered in the design, was the
fem-units in these power plants would develop massively muscled
buttocks of extraordinary and exaggerated proportions that would
eventually fill the cylinder and reduce efficiency.
This would not be a major problem, since these redundant femunits could
be sold to those males who preferred their women with cartoon sized
buttocks! -
Bimbo screamed for mercy through the exhaust pipe as the accelerator
demanded more. Her mind resisted, but the electrical impulses to her
limbs and tender rectum could not be ignored. With a mind of their own,
her lower limbs speeded up on the whirling crank. The dildo flashing in
and out of her ‘squelching love nest increased its efforts to shaft her
to death.
Still the demands rose higher, and Bimbo complied. She had no choice.
Tammy was converting her into a pulsing organism of tormented flesh and
bone with a press of her foot. Bimbo found that she couldn't resist the
awesome stimulation of her aching love tube. She was racked by
electrical pulses and mind-bending orgasms as the little car purred
silently down the road.
Tammy decided a nice drive in the country was just the thing for a
running-in-trip. As she left the town behind, she sat back and enjoyed
the combined pleasure of the scenery, and the crotch warming sensations
of knowing that her silent Passage down the leafy lanes was at the
expense of an encapsulated enemy. It was difficult to take her eyes from
the cylinder as she visualised the flashing, hard working thighs,
compressing, spreading buttocks, and the blubbering sex lips it
contained. The road became uneven for a stretch, and Tammy grinned as
she visualised Bimbo bouncing on her split-pinned boobs.
Deliberately, she steered for as many pot-holes as she could find. The
car bounced and juddered in a manner that was uncomfortable enough 
for the driver. It was mind boggling to imagine what it must be like for the 
trussed, banded and gagged Bimbo, bouncing helplessly on her tits.
She remembered how Bimbo had silenced her with the Walker prod, and
denied her the chance of rescue by her husband. Almost unconsciously her
foot eased down further on the accelerator. The pulsing, tormented Bimbo
was forced to respond and the little car picked up speed as it bounced
over the road. Soon they'd reached a beauty spot that she'd shared with
her husband on many occasions in her days as a free woman, So she
stopped to reminisce.
As the car pulled to a halt, Tammy left the engine running and slid her
hands over the gently vibrating surface of the cylinder. It was so
satisfying to think of that cruelly controlled woman in there pumping
away at the crank, fearful that at any second a depressed foot would
accelerate her body to a sinew stretching blur. Tammy couldn't resist
getting down to peer into the glass inspection port. -
Bimbo's face was a picture of impotent begging, pleading helplessness!
Even with the engine only at tick-over, the thrusting,
fanny-stretching phallus and forcefully flexing limbs were showing the
effect in that traumatised face. It might be nice to have a scanner
fitted that would relay the view to the driver at full speed, it would
be enjoyable to see Bimbo assume an eye bulging vibrating torment as she
was forced to perform at those incredible levels. In turn a view screen
to allow Bimbo to watch the total indifference of her tormentor's face
as she was controlled, torsioned, reciprocated and screwed by
unfeeling attachments would be an added insult to the bitch.
It was a hot day, and so Tammy lay down on the grass below the shining
cylinder of the power unit. It was so nice to enjoy the freedom from
bondage even if only for a short time. To be able to watch Bimbo suffer
in her mechanised hell as she ticked over, was an added bonus.
For an hour she lay savouring the double treat of freedom and revenge,
and during that hour she counted at least eight orgasms contorting the
glass shielded face. But now it was time to go. In fact she'd left it a
little late, and Bimbo would have to make up the lost time. She waved to
the face in the glass and then boarded the car.
Bimbo saw the face vanish and felt the tremors as her owner driver
climbed aboard. She tensed and fought the cruel cinching bands of steel
clamping her tightly to the control bars that held her positioned and
ready. The huge, dual-purpose electrode in her painfully abused anus
seemed to swell with malicious intent as it prepared to send powerful,
controlling shocks into this impudent struggling female.
Bimbo screamed for mercy as the mild, tingling burn of tickover
voltage increased to shattering, demanding surges of rippling current.
Her legs thrust powerfully backward and the dildo withdrew. A split
second later the charge reversed and she was drawn into a folded bundle
as the dildo powered deeply into her pussy. Now the tempo increased as
the crankshaft began to build up speed. Bimbo screamed and writhed as
her body accelerated into a jack-knifing cycle of torment and the huge
dildo charged in and out of her foaming pussy. The car ran over some
bumpy ground and her pleas for mercy mingled with the huffing gasps of
breath as she was bounced painfully on the resilient orbs of her
supporting boobs. For several seconds they were pummelled and distorted
by her oscillating weight, her nipples reacted like pieces of elastic as
they struggled to maintain her in position. Then the damping effect of
her split ‘pin secured nodules regained control.
Instantly the torment was repeated as another bump ran below the wheels.
She couldn't know that her driver was taking a short cut over a farm
track, and she endured in her thrashing torment as she powered the car
along. Already her punished pussy had engineered its first orgasm since
they had moved off, and the next was already building for a repeat.
Desperately Bimbo tried to fight the painful impulses in her rectum and
bring the car to
a halt, but her driver simply pressed the accelerator further and
increased her gyrations still more.
With a hopeless feeling of wretchedness, Bimbo knew that she was beaten.
She was nothing more than a controlled, living component. It did little
to ease her despair when she considered the fact that literally
thousands of other women out there were suffering exactly the same fate.
Even during testing at the plant, she had seen the images of hundreds of
other vehicles on the parking lot, reflected in a rain water puddle. It
had been a sobering glimpse of her future status. She was just one of
many impersonal shining cylinders that hid the ultimate trussed torment
of totally enslaved womanhood from view.
They arrived on time, and Tammy, well pleased with her gift from her
mistress, put the little car away in the garage and switched the
fem-unit to servicing mode.
Tammy knew her task tonight was to pleasure the Captain with tongue
shackling as she did some extra work at home, and she was determined
that the Captain would be squealing with pleasure as a reward for her
generosity and kindness. It was doubtful if the work would get done.
Tammy would not be happy until her owner was squirming in her seat.
Even Brigette was surprised at the willingness of that busy tongue,
clipped to her clitoris. It looked as if she’d made a wise choice in
giving 266 a car of her own. Life from now on promised to be even more
enjoyable than before, if that was possible. But she knew it would only
last a few weeks. After that 266 would forget that there was a woman in
that cylinder and it would just be a mode of transport. That was the
problem with these self maintenance Femsmobiles. They actually became
pure machines after the novelty had worn off! They lacked the mind blowing image of rows of working rear ends and flashing, abused sex
openings that the old, open versions had boasted.
Captain Sommes put down her pen and eased her chair back from the desk,
looking down as the tongue shackled Tammy
faithfully followed her lead. She reached down and stroked the smooth
shaved head, and affectionately squeezed the kneeling pet's face with
her thighs. The tongue responded by digging even deeper into her pussy.
It was the only form of acknowledgment possible!
Yes! It had been a good day’s work when she had rescued 266 from the
clutches of the Judge and his ugly cohort. 266 was a gem; loyal,
hardworking and stunningly beautiful. Had she left her to their mercy,
she would by now be ruined; a whipped, grovelling, cowering slave. But
the Captain's method of compelling obedience, by strict yet
compassionate rules, and overwhelming pleasure levels, had caused the
young pet-toy to blossom into a most satisfying and willing possession.
‘It was a pity that 266 hated Bimbo so much. Now there was a possible
addition to the slave stable whom Brigette felt could be equally useful.
The trouble was, she had given her word. She had promised Bimbo as a
gift for her own pet, and it must be kept. If only there were a way to
change 266's mind and get her to accept that Bimbo had already paid the
price for her treachery.
The Captain luxuriated in the feelings being generated in her crotch as
her mind addressed the problem.
Several months passed uneventfully, and Tammy settled into her routine
of shopping and preparing herself for her mistress’ daily return from
work. As her owner had anticipated, she no longer thought of the car as
a unit for punishing Bimbo. For many weeks now, the fact that Bimbo was
actually built into it hadn't even crossed her mind! Whereas in the
early days she would deliberately leave the car running whilst she
shopped, she now treated the thing exactly as a fully mechanised unit,
and switched the engine off whenever it was not required.
All the time the Captain was watching with shrewd eyes as she planned
her next move.
One morning, the first part of her plan went into action. Tammy, as
usual, rose early and prepared to leave to do the
shopping, but on energising the car, found that nothing was working. She
informed the Captain after checking Bimbo was still active and well, and
they awaited the repair crew. Tammy couldn't know that Brigette had
disconnected the energiser circuit, nor that the crew sent for were
anything but a repair team!
Tammy stood by with her mistress as the cylinder was unsealed for the
first time, and as the top half was lifted clear, Tammy was shaken by
the severity of the method used to secure _the working component into
place. The engine was cranked over and all seemed to be in order. Bimbo
compressed and expanded smoothly with only the pleading sounds of her
plugged mouth to convey that she was anything other than machinery. The
mechanic feigned puzzlement over the malfunction fid decided to lift the
unit out for closer inspection.
Soon Bimbo was vertical for the first time in months, supported by the
mechanic as she stood on trembling legs, and Tammy who had been feeling
some doubts about returning her to the engine, stiffened her resolve as
the hated Bimbo once more assumed human stature. The old loathing
returned immediately, blossoming to full hatred as she remembered the
bitch standing before her all those months ago and using her helpless
demise in the Walker to quell her hope for freedom.
The Captain moved forward and faced her pet.
“Don't you think it’s time to forgive and forget 266? Bimbo here has
paid enough. Surely you can forgive her for what she did?”
Tammy shook her head stubbornly, and enjoyed the look of resignation in
the teetering, banded form of Bimbo. The bitch was going to suffer for
ever as far as she was concerned. No punishment was severe enough to
cancel the debt of betray ayal, and for stealing her husband.
Tammy was so busy glaring at Bimbo that she didn’t see Brigette nod to
the mechanic. Her first indication that all was not as it should be,
came with the look of surprise and hope in Bimbo's eyes.
Rough hands grabbed Tammy from behind, and struggling to” turn, she saw
that two more men had appeared carrying extra equipment. In horror she
recognised the items as banding clamps, the same as the ones securing
Bimbo. With terror and | pleading eyes she turned to Captain Sommes as
the bands |
encircled her form and began to cinch her into the correct’
configuration for the engine unit.
The Captain stood silent and devoid of expression as an exhaust helmet
and mouth stub were bolted around 266’s head. The twin sheath boot
serving as a big-end assembly joined her restraints and completed the
reduction to an engine unit awaiting installation. Brigette halted the
mechanics as they were about to lift Tammy and place her in the
cylinder, and walking» around the cruelly fettered girl, she said.
“I tried to get you to change your mind in a less traumatic way 266, but
you wouldn't listen. Bimbo is the only woman of her type who has ever
been fitted into one of these things. They're normally powered by
vicious criminals who have done horrendous things. They deserve such a
fate, but I don't think Bimbo does.
“I've decided you should try it for a week, and then you can make the
decision on whether to re-install Bimbo. Whatever you decide, I'll
honour your decision, I promise you. In the meantime, Bimbo here gets the
car for shopping!”
Tammy’s muffled begging rose to an all time high as she was lifted and
placed into the cylinder. Within minutes her nipple rings had been
removed and her breasts split-pinned into the mounting cups. Her feet
were clamped to the crazy: body banding connected to various anchor points.
She couldn't move a muscle as the rectal and vaginal implant units were
thrust into her body. Now came the fuelling tubes sliding into her
nostrils and slithering down into her throat. She tried to prevent the
attachment of the high performance electrodes to all her major buttock
and thigh muscles, but it was futile. The severe banding held her firmly
in place. 
Suddenly the light was blotted out as the top half of the casing was
refitted and sealed, and with feeling of dread Tammy felt the vehicle
rock as the released Bimbo mounted her vehicle.
There was a short period with no activity, and from her own experience,
Tammy knew that Bimbo was being instructed in the use of the controls.
She strained against her pitiless bondage, but in her mind she knew it
was a futile gesture. No-one had ever escaped from an engine unit. She
lay still, fearful of the inescapable torment she would soon endure,
not really knowing what to expect. No-one could know what it was really
like until they had experienced that deep pit of despair. She was a
human being; a warm vibrant woman, and yet to all intents and purposes she
had been reduced to a mindless component within a few, short minutes.
Tammy was totally unprepared for the turning of the energiser switch,
and almost before she knew what happened she found herself contorting
and jack-knifing with monotonous regularity. She screamed for mercy down
the exhaust pipe, but knew that her sounds of pleading would be erased
by the soundproofing and the efficient silencer system. 7
As she pumped backward and forward, Tammy tried to come to terms with
the burning fire of her anal energiser and the reciprocating monster
bulldozing in and out of her love nest. She had almost accepted the
present level of torment when she realised that like she had done
herself, Bimbo at this moment was merely savouring the thought of her
ticking over. Anytime now her foot would be depressing the accelerator
and increasing the torment to unbelievable levels. There was a slight
bump and Tammy realised that the vehicle had been put into gear. Only
the clutch separated her from the drive wheels!
The dreaded moment came and Tammy fought frantically to resist the
powerful electrical signals pulsing into her tender bottom, but they
simply increased and with them, the awful load of the crankshaft as the
clutch was engaged and she was connected to the wheels.
It was a trap of opposing forces. The road wheels were trying to prevent
her turning the crank, and the electrical impulses were forcing her to
do so. The strain was horrendous, and the searing burn of the energiser
was rising to a screaming agony as Bimbo increased the speed still
further. Even with the smooth surface of the tarmac racing below her
observation window, Tammy was already suffering the torment of bouncing
on her squashed tits. Each bounce produced an opposite reaction that
sent shafts of pain through her retained nipples as they were stretched
and deformed.
The urging demands of the anal energiser rose to shattering levels as
Bimbo motored out of sight of the Captain. She floored the pedal and
watched the rev counter climb into the red.
Tammy exploded into violent action as the massive pulses of energy
smashed into her pretty bottom, and was soon almost a blur of flexing,
feline torment. Orgasm after orgasm smashed into her crotch and finally
blended into a single agonising fever of spasming muscles. The pain of
energization and the pleasure agony of unstoppable sexual eruption
joined forces to reduce her toa blubbering, pitiful bundle of erotically
gyrating womanhood.
Oh! God, Please Bimbo, please let it end!
It didn't. Bimbo maintained the fem-unit at maximum power for mile after
mile, until Tammy's whole lower region was coated in the sticky foam of
her copious vaginal secretions. The flashing dildo was acting like an
egg beater at this speed. The syrupy liquid of her arousal was being
whipped toa froth by the plunging actions of that insatiable monster.
Half delirious with the strain being imposed on her fettered form, Tammy
pistoned onward. Strangely, the electrode pads on her muscles did their
devilish work without pain. Only the fiery probe in her stretched rear
opening sent the waves of searing, biting energy into her body.
The cycle of never ending contraction and explosive expansion continued.
Bimbo was surely enjoying her revenge, oblivious to the tremendous
muscle fatigue and trauma being enacted below her comfortable perch. Or
was she?
Suddenly the pace slackened. Just when she was sure she would go insane,
Tammy felt the searing fire in her bottom drop to an uncomfortable yet
bearable, burning insistence.
She pumped onward at a pace that was demanding and yet within limits,
every second expecting the muscle tearing agony of full acceleration to
return. But it never did. For the whole week she found the control of her
body to be smooth and low level. The observation window confirmed that
although the pace of the car was quite rapid, it was nowhere near the
speed it was capable of.
Tammy was puzzled. Bimbo had the chance of a lifetime, and yet she chose
to show mercy. That first agonising burst at full speed seemed to be a
lesson in what could be done to her captive body. An example to compare
with the level of use being demanded now.
Bimbo had returned her to the garage after about an hour on that first
day, and having switched to refuelling mode, left Tammy to experience
her first taste of recycled food supplement. It wasn’t a pleasant
experience, and many times she almost gagged at the thought of where
that food had come from.
Fed, cleansed and serviced, Tammy was still as she thought over the days
events. At least she had the certain fact of release in six days time.
Bimbo, if she were re-installed would never have that spark of hope to
cling to. Tammy tried to envisage the rest of her life as this mindless
component of a machine. The level of pain and pleasure entirely at the
whim of an unseen driver was a daunting thought.
For the first time she understood the Captain's reluctance to let Bimbo
stay contained without ever having the chance to plead for mercy. Or,
for that matter, without her driver-owner ever knowing what it was like
to be reduced to this level.
The week passed slowly, and every day Bimbo's face appeared at the glass
port. It wasn’t so much a gloating face, but more a sincere look of
checking to make sure the enclosed fem-unit was still in good health.
The level of operation stayed bearable, and if anything reduced to a
lower and more manageable form.
Finally, the day of release arrived. Bimbo went for a spin, and
accelerating to full power, she reminded Tammy of the excruciating
torment of being energised to mind-bending levels. Then as the speed
slackened, the sight of the familiar driveway surface appeared below the
inspection port.
Tammy inwardly voiced a prayer of thanks that her torment was coming to
an end. She listened with heart in mouth as the first sounds of
unfastening heralded the opening of the cylinder, and blinked in the
strong light as her cover was removed.
Within minutes she stood shakily, unfettered with the exception of her
wrists, and supported by Bimbo who was completely freed of restraint.
Tammy was pale and fatigued; shuddering with emotion as she savoured her
renewed freedom from the horrors of being a component.
She looked from Brigette to Bimbo. The Captain was wearing a sort of
inquiring smirk. It was then that Tammy noticed the other occupants of
the garage. Two were powerful female warders dressed in SAC uniforms,
the other a fettered and naked
female, obviously a prisoner. She had a superb body, a beautiful face,
and cruel eyes!
“Take your pick of replacement units, Bimbo or 8534 over there.”
Tammy saw Bimbo tremble as her fate was put into the hands _ of the woman
she had betrayed. Tammy was silent for a moment, _ then spoke thoughtfully.
“No woman deserves to be put in one of those things. Sell it and TI walk.”
The Captain considered her with a knowing smile.
“Read out the charge and conviction sheet for 8534, thank you _ sergeant.”
The sergeant fished out an electronic note pad and began to read.
“One! Pimping! Running unlicensed NPGs! “Two! Drug trafficking!
“Three! Murder of two NPGs who refused to join her gang! “Four!
Organising child sex!
“Five! Disfiguring NPGs with razors!
“I think that’s enough, thank you sergeant,” advised the
Captain, seeing the look of revulsion in Tammy’s face. “Well 266, what's
your verdict?”
Tammy looked at Bimbo then turned full face to the fettered 8534,
“Put that slime-ball in there, and forever.” she added venomously.
The prisoner reacted before the warders could move to stop her, and
launching herself at the wrist manacled Tammy, she head-butted her
painfully in the breast, and then brought a knee up into her groin! ;
Tammy’s face was ashen as she went down, and the warders| sprang forward
and dragged the spitting prisoner away.
For several minutes, all events around Tammy were of secondary
importance to the sickening pain in her breast and groin. Slowly, as she
recovered, she looked up to find herself cradled in the arms of Bimbo,
who at this moment was massaging her bruised breast to ease the pain.
Her eyes were concerned; sharing the pain of the injury.
For the first time since meeting Bimbo, Tammy felt compassion | towards
the bitch. As Brigette had said, she'd paid her dues and now was the
time for forgiveness.
A scuffle in the corner turned all attention to the glaring, fully banded
prisoner, now ready for insertion into the cylinder. Everyone could see
that her securing bands were far tighter than was normal, and were
cinching her cruelly into a series of vertically stacked, bulbous
curves. Even her mounting in the cylinder was to be extreme as spacers
were added to her nipples. ensuring that they were painfully stretched
before the split pin: were inserted. A special, super-large dildo and
anal energiser
unit replaced the originals suffered by the two watching women, and the
magneto was replaced by a high output version, usually reserved for the
more powerful commercial vehicles. Tammy turned to the Captain.
“I was wrong ma'am, there are some women who deserve such a fate, and
she’s one of them.” The Captain smiled and nodded before answering.
“You'll note the extra tight banding. The sergeant over there has a
sister in the SAC service, and 8534 nearly blinded her with a fork
before slashing her face.” Tammy fully understood as the sergeant spoke
with an evil grin creasing her face.
“Make sure she suffers 266, and if ever you need help, just call me!”
Tammy nodded to assure her that the woman would rue the day she had
head-butted her.
But the revelations were not complete. They all stood and watched as the
passenger egg was removed and replaced with a double seat version.
Moving forward, the Captain assisted the manacled Tammy into one of the
seats. Bimbo joined her in the driving seat and they both looked to the
Captain for instructions.
“You can both do the shopping, and no cat fights if you please.”
Bimbo and Tammy locked eyes, and suddenly the ice was melting in the
warmth of a new friendship and understanding.
Bimbo energised the fem-unit and after checking the rev counter, floored
the pedal with some glee. The wheels spun, and even through the
efficient silencer the screams of agony could be heard as the high
output magneto wrought havoc on the bucking, tormented anus in the
cylinder.
The performance of the vehicle was exceptional, and as only two
previously used fem-units could know, it was at the cost of incredible
trauma and muscle tearing exertion to the cyli: woman!
From that day on, the little car only travelled at top speed, and as
often as possible on rough roads. Speeding tickets were referred to the
sergeant, and gleefully scrapped as she visualised the retribution of
her sister's vicious attacker. A small service
check three weeks later required the removal of the face glass and
silencer flange for fine adjustments. 8534 begged and pleaded the whole
time, but Tammy just ignored her entreaties, much as 8534 had done to
the women she had disfigured. With the adjustments it was found the car
was even faster!
It was nearly twelve months before 8534 had to be replaced. And when
they saw the massively extended buttocks, none of them could contain
their laughter. The muscles had become so huge as to impede normal
movement of the legs, and as they watched 8534 waddle away in
restraints, Tammy and Bimbo felt that at least in part her debt had been
paid. The other part was to be as a permanently presented set of
buttocks forming a whipping exhibit at the home of a wealthy Arab. The
Arab was short-sighted and needed a large target. Totally blind, he
wouldn't be able to miss this target!
With her up-ended configuration, the huge hemispheres of the woman's
nates would provide an interesting, resilient cushion for many a male,
although it would be doubtful that any possessed a penis long enough to
reach anything with those huge bulbous curves in the way. 8534 was
destined to perpetually suffer whippings and caning, and the endless
trauma of being used as an animal in both her offered holes.
It is interesting to note that so huge were the distensions of her over
developed nates, that they could actually be cinched into balloons like
a spare pair of boobs. As a result, the Arab had some special, steel
screw type clamps made, and regularly used them to squeeze the buttocks
into obscene spheres before commencing his assault on the taut,
quivering flesh.
‘So ended the reign of terror of 8534!
duggery. For although Bimbo was still Tammy's pet, it looked very much
as if an equal status would be the final outcome of the newly forged
friendship. At first Bimbo was alarmed as Tammy ordered her de-animated
again. But her fear was replaced by an
interested curiosity as she overheard the conversation after her
reduction to a solid object.
“No, you can't undo the SS training, she'll always be sex mad. The only
thing you can do is have her converted,” the Captain was saying to
Tammy. Tammy seemed to be interested in the option, but unfortunately
for Bimbo, the door to her refrigeration — unit was swung shut, and the
conversing women moved away. She would just have to wait and see what
Tammy had planned for her. For some reason she held no fear of her
unknown future.


CHAPTER TWELVE
NEW FRIENDS

The chosen conversion course was three weeks long. During that time
Bimbo slowly became aware of the nature of her programming. With
increasing regularity, the images of being entangled with another woman
during sexual arousal were making themselves felt.
At first she was disgusted at her own thoughts, but as time wore on, the
perceived sensuous contact of another woman grew in strength. Attempts
to visualise sexual contact with the male of the species became harder
and harder to imagine. In frustration, Bimbo would eventually give up
the battle and allow her thoughts to drift back to female forms, only to
find that she was instantly rewarded by the roaring flame of pleasurable
sensations.
At first it was any female. But slowly the female partners of her
fantasies took on the forms of her former tormentor Tammy, and the stern
Captain Sommes.
Tammy didn’t know that in addition to her own programming, the Captain
had furtively added another program that would cause Bimbo to lust after
her body as well.
Captain Sommes felt sure that in time Tammy would allow the new recruit
to be ‘borrowed’.
As Tammy’s owner, endowed with the power to decree anything from her
pet, Brigette could have taken Bimbo for herself. But she was shrewd. If
she invoked her superiority, she would surely loose the exquisite,
freely given quality of service she enjoyed.
No! It was far better to keep her pet happy and allow her some say in
Bimbo's usage, and in doing so, ensure that Tammy always gave her best
performance to a wise and benevolent mistress,
Ina way, Tammy had come to rule her owner. The Captain was
addicted to her pet's ability to please on a level only dreamed of
by most. In turn, Tammy was incapable of imagining being
owned by another, or for that matter, experiencing such levels of
enforced arousal other than at the hands of her mistress.
Occasionally, she would be mounted on a Wheeler and despatched to her
ex husband John for use as he saw fit. But it was the fact that it was
Captain Sommes that had parcelled her up and sent her off that gave the
most pleasure. The more the Captain used her as a controlled object, the
more pleasure was experienced by both captor and captive.
Bimbo emerged from her frozen chrysalis state, and almost immediately
began to give signs that her conversion to the attraction of a female
lover had been successful.
Even as she lay recovering from the de-animated state, she was already
casting imploring looks at her former tormentor. Within a few hours, her
looks had become translated into unmistakable body movements that left
no doubt as to her need for contact.
Tammy obliged and stroked her breasts, refusing to remove Bimbo's gag
with a shake of the head. Bimbo responded instantly to this
confirmation of Tammy’s ownership and control with a series of sensuous
moans and half closed eyes. She was the pet of a pet! That fact alone
was enough to send shattering waves of pleasure through her manacled
formas she locked eyes with her mistress. Bimbo knew she was going to
suffer at the hands of Tammy, but her suffering would consist of endless
pleasure; of that she was very sure!
