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Part 12
Part 13

Part 12

Moving between Jason and Flora, the stranger turned off the treadmill and vibrating massager. As they looked up in surprise, he smiled.

“Hello,” he said, and then frowned as Flora shook her head wearily. Though her worst fears had come true; a stranger was in their house while she was helplessly trapped in Mandy’s devilish equipment, she was too exhausted from her ordeal to do anything but go limp within her bondage, taking advantage of the relief from the insidious treadmill. Of course, her relaxing was visible only as a bend at the knees, since her harness held her up, the rigid corset stiffened her back, and her hands were still held fast to her hips by the thick rubber gloves that were glued there.

The stranger frowned at her lack of response, then noticed the box at her belt, from which lead connected to her helmet. He flipped the switch on the box, and watched her face. When nothing happened, he began again.

“My dear people, I am Mr. Dodds.”

At this announcement Flora started visibly. She hadn’t recognized him!

“You have nothing to fear. I am an old friend of both Flora and Ms. Rafool’s, and I’m perfectly aware of their unusual hobbies. I’ll be releasing you shortly, but I’m afraid I’m not here to rescue you. You see, I am your new master, at least for a while.”

He let those words sink in for a moment. Flora was stunned by the appearance of her old master out of nowhere, and even more surprised by his cool assumption of authority over them. She thought furiously, wondering how he had got onto the property, or for that matter, how he had got past Mandy’s two protection-trained Rottweillers. She had no intention of surrendering to her old flame without Mandy’s reassurance.

She was also acutely aware that their visitor was a large and powerfully built man, so for the moment, she offered no resistance as he proceeded to undress her. She squirmed a bit in embarrassment as he removed the dildos from her in plain view of Jason. Did he have to do this here, right in front of Jason, she thought.

As she stood shivering, wet with lubricant and sweat, she wondered whether Dodds’ appearance was an accident, or just another scheme of Mandy’s. She knew there was some history between Mandy and Dodds- that was one reason he had introduced her to Mandy when they had parted. On the other hand, she was certain that Mandy hadn’t had anything to with men here since Flora had moved in, although she knew that at least in theory, Mandy was bisexual.

She remembered that Mandy had taken several business trips last year, despite her being “retired”. The lawyers and bean-counters had not been managing her father’s estate to her liking, and she had intervened personally to set things right. She could easily have met with Dodds or any others without Flora’s knowledge on any of those occasions. For a moment, she felt a faint twinge of jealousy, but it faded, dissolving in a warm glow, as she assured herself how much Mandy loved her.

She hoped for Mr. Dodds’ sake that he either had Mandy’s permission or that he left before she got home. Although she didn’t usually think of her as a cruel person, Mandy was not someone you wanted to have genuinely mad at you. Dodds covered Flora with a plain silk bathrobe, and led her away up the stairs. He stopped at the bar and fixed her a brandy, commanding her to drink it.

“It will help you calm down, perhaps you can get some rest,” he said. Flora had no intention of resting until she got to the bottom of this little mystery, but she swallowed obediently, in order to seem unthreatening. She coughed a little after, unaccustomed to the burning nectar, and then docilely allowed him to lead her to her room. He tucked her in between soft satin sheets and left her room.

Flora had intended to get up and about as soon as Dodds left her alone, but suddenly she felt very tired, her arms and legs leaden, and she realised that she had been drugged. Already, the soporific that Dodds had dosed her brandy with was making her drowsy, and Flora was soon fast asleep, unaware of the clicks of the key turning in the lock.

When Flora awoke, she lay still a moment, trying to remember where she was. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and the smell of leather filled her nostrils. Her head felt tight, and her mouth cottony and full, as if she’d been drinking. When she remembered the events of that morning, she made to get up, to look for Jason and Mandy, but- she couldn’t! She couldn’t move a muscle, literally. Her entire body felt clamped in a hard, immovable shell.

She realised then that her eyes were actually open but she couldn’t see a thing. What’s happened to me? she thought. She forced herself to calm down. When she tried to move her head again, she realised that she had been put into bondage again, but what bondage! Mentally, she took stock of her senses. She could feel a stiff, form- fitting leather helmet laced tightly around her head. The fullness in her mouth was a soft gag, which tasted of leather. Although she had been wearing discipline helmets on occasion for years, this struck her as odd, as she was certain that all of Mandy’s were made of rubber.

Nonetheless, helmets she could handle, they were part and parcel of her bondage games with Mandy, and she enjoyed them. Nor was it the first time she had woken up to find that she had been restrained while asleep, but this incredible sense of rigidity… She began to panic again. Never in her entire life, including two years under Mandy’s tender ministrations, had she felt as trapped as this. Even when tied tightly with yards of rope, or laced into a leather body binder, or hugged in the firm embrace of Mandy’s inflatable ‘meditation bag’, it had always been possible to move slightly. Now she couldn’t wiggle even a finger! But… she flexed her muscles again, breathing slowly to calm herself.

Okay, she could feel her muscles flex, she wasn’t paralysed. She took the freedom of movement in her head as a good sign as well, and slowly realised she was in no immediate danger. She heard some scratches and a click and then the sound of the door opening. Well, she thought, I’m not in any of Mandy’s helmets- she usually either uses the ones with ear pads or puts plugs in my ears- I would never have heard that noise.

Something brushed her head. She remembered that Mandy had removed her wig. Mr. Dodds had seen her bald! Even after almost a year without hair, she still felt a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of him seeing her without hair.

“I think you’re awake, aren’t you?” A familiar male voice asked.

She “um-hmmed” through the gag.

“This is Mr. Dodds again, Flora. You mustn’t be afraid; there is nothing to worry about. I’ll take good care of you, and in due course, I’ll let you out. Now, if I remove your helmet, will you be a good girl and have something to eat?”

Her stomach rumbled an answer before she could make a conscious decision, so she grunted “Um-hm” again. In a short time, he had removed her mask. She blinked in the warm glow from the bedside lamp. Expecting to see some bizarre costume in leather or rubber, she was surprised to find him bending over her in a simple tweed house jacket.

He smiled kindly saying; “I have some good minestrone soup here for you. I’ll spoon and you swallow, alright?”

Suddenly, she was famished. She had no idea how long it had been since she and Jason had `eaten’ breakfast.

“Okay,” she replied, and her own voice startled her. She realised she hadn’t spoken plainly since, since…

“What time is it?” she inquired, as he began spoon-feeding her. The salty, beef-flavoured soup tasted delicious.

“It’s four in the afternoon, but you’ve been asleep since yesterday,” he lied. She noticed then that the walls seemed tilted at crazy angles, until she realised that she was on a tilted platform, and not in bed. Looking down, it was immediately obvious why she was unable to move. She was completely encased in a rock-hard body cast, covering her body from her ankles up to the neck.

Mr. Dodds was talking again as he fed her more soup. “You and Jason have had quite a session, though I dare say you got the more intense treatment. I’ve put you into a body cast to isolate you completely from physical sensations. Because of this, you should be recovered from your ordeal completely. Now we can all have fun again!”

Whether Flora believed this lame-sounding excuse or not, she was too bewildered by the events of the day to offer any argument or wonder what Dodds meant by ‘fun’. Nervously, she continued sipping the offered soup. When she was finished, and Dodds had cleared away the breakfast tray, he spread a plastic tarpaulin around her feet and under the slanting board. Flora’s eyes grew wide with apprehension.

Dodds smiled and said, “Now I’m going to remove your cast. The noise may sound awful, but I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”

When the messy procedure was over, Mr. Dodds helped the weak and wondering Flora to the bed, tucked her in, and said, “Good night!” before trundling off with the pieces of her cast under his arms. The drug he had put in her soup soon took hold, and she drifted off again, unaware of the strange activities commencing in the guestroom down the hall.

Late into the night, the light in Mr. Dodd’s commandeered guestroom still burned. He had his three body casts arrayed across the tarpaulin-covered floor, while he mixed odd-smelling liquids in big plastic buckets. The halves of each cast had been joined anew, the seams made smooth by plaster-and-gauze repairs. When he was satisfied with the gooey substance that foamed in his buckets, he began pouring it into his moulds.

Sunlight streaming in the window warmed her body as Flora awoke. She felt strange, as if still dreaming, with a dull, numb feeling enveloping her. As she woke up a bit more, she realised that someone had put a thin latex helmet on her head. She felt for a zipper to undo it, but it was apparently sealed under a glued seam. The helmet had eye, nose and mouth openings, so she took it in stride, having worn similar helmets for years. She started to get up, happy to be able to move again, only to be startled when she realised that Mr. Dodds was sitting in a chair next to the door. He looked a little weary, but he must have been happy about something because he was smiling broadly.

“Here,” he said. “I brought you some juice. No, don’t lie down, we’ve a lot to do today. Besides, I want to examine you.”

At Flora’s intake of breath and indignant look, he quickly added, “Now, my good man, there’s no point stalling.”

Flora thought, `good man’? He’s either gone completely bonkers, or he really needs glasses!

“After all,” Dodds was saying, “I am a doctor, and besides, I’ve seen you without clothes many times in the past, or had you forgotten?”

Flora blushed beneath her concealing mask, and he added, “Please. Turn around for me a bit. Good. Very good. You look fine. Now I want you to get dressed in those clothes on the dresser, they should fit you well enough.”

As she sipped her juice, Flora began feeling even more odd than when she had awoke. There was a strange sensation in her skin, as if she still had on one of her latex catsuits. She looked down at her body…

…and got the shock of her life.

She had the body of a man! Feeling faint, she rushed to the full-length dressing mirror, holding on to one of the bedposts for support. The image that confronted her in the mirror was impossible, yet there was no denying it. Below the concealing black hood, her sexy young female figure was gone, replaced by the virile form of a young, shaved man, complete with plumbing. In a daze, she caressed the foreign chest and arms, thinking, I’m dreaming- that’s got to be it, I’m still asleep, and this is all a dream.

Mr. Dodds interrupted her reverie. “Ah-ah! None of that, Jason- no touching yourself. Just get dressed. And hurry up, we’ve a lot do today.”

Jason! Flora thought, I’m not Jason! Okay, that’s it then, this really is a dream. I guess I can be whoever I want… hmm, this could actually be fun. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a man. As she turned her head, the makeup lights surrounding the vanity left blurry trails behind- she knew she was dreaming, now.

Dodds was very pleased with himself. It had taken him a year of tinkering and several visits from a Hollywood special effects costumer that he knew to perfect the technique. The foam latex suit that he’d moulded from Jason’s cast fit her perfectly. Once she was dressed, she’d never be able to see the back seam, which was glued shut anyhow, and the only remaining openings were at the neck and anus.

The inside of the suit was moulded precisely to her own shape, and the supple foam latex would follow her every movement like real flesh. A thick dildo, made of silicone-coated steel, filled her vagina and was loosely attached to the artificial phallus in front, while a small manual pump concealed in the scrotum would allow anyone who knew the secret to give her a convincing erection.

The dildo inside her was hollow near the top and half full of mercury, so it wiggled and jerked inside her with every movement. In Flora’s anaesthetised state however, she knew only that she felt horny. She chalked it up to her new male body.

How distracting, she thought, to be randy all the time. No wonder men have such a bad reputation.

By all external appearances, she was now a man. But Dodds had drugged her juice as well, to support the illusion.

On her empty stomach, he thought, it ought to be coursing through her veins even now.

The juice contained a witch’s brew of drugs, although in relatively low dosages. The mixture had been painstakingly developed by the doctor over about five months, using himself and his current slave as test subjects. A version of MDMA would cause a feeling of elation, a distant relative of Xylocain would numb her skin somewhat, and a hypnotic similar to Nembutal would maintain her dreamlike state. None of the drugs depressed the central nervous system. Flora would still receive plenty of sexual stimuli.

As the potent cocktail of drugs began to take hold, Flora found herself becoming excited by her new identity, and the interesting items of clothing that Dodds had set out for her. She fumbled through the pile, wondering what new devilment the mysterious Mr. D had come up with. She uncovered a large butt plug made of gleaming chrome-plated metal. It was very heavy, and warm to the touch. Dodds must have heated it up.

Thoughtful of him, but… She stared at it. She looked at Mr. Dodds pleadingly. She looked back at the butt plug.

“Come, come now!” exclaimed Dodds; “I’m losing my patience.” He leaped to his feet and shoved Flora/Jason onto the bed, shouting, “Stay there and don’t move!”

He searched through the bedside tables until he found a jar of lubricant, some of Mandy’s favourite silicone grease. He liberally smeared Flora’s rear passage with it, through the hole in the suit, and pushed in the plug. All at once and nothing first, Flora (or was she Jason?) felt the dildo slip into place. Had she not been used to such toys, the big plug would surely have caused some pain. As it was, the size of it made her gasp, then writhe in delight.

I wonder if this is how it feels to Jason, she thought. Am I really a man? It feels so different, strange.

“Now that you’re suitably plugged,” shouted Dodds, “get your sluggish ass off the bed and into those things as I told you!”

Jason/Flora moved quickly to the dresser and picked up the first item. Not so much clothing as tack, thought Flora. The leather harness she held in her hands was both large and complex, with dozens of straps. She laid it out and loosened the buckles, then put it on. When she was finished, she stood before the mirror.

The harness was a total-body harness, with straps extending down two sides of each leg plus the front, rear, and sides of the torso, and both sides of each arm. Further, it continued in a stiff posture collar into a complex head harness, which she hadn’t figured out yet. Mr. Dodds stood and assisted.

“Here lad, you’ve got to loosen the gag-strap first,” he said.

He pulled the harness over her head, pushing the deflated bladder gag into her mouth. Over this was mounted a thick curved plate, covering the mouth, on the front of which was attached a formidable, realistically shaped dildo, also made of gleaming chrome-plated metal. As the straps were tightened, Flora felt strangely elated, knowing that this treatment was the sort of thing Jason would have to learn to love.

But wait, she thought, I’m Jason now! And if I’m Jason, then what is Flora going through? Her head spun.

Mr. Dodds worked his way down Floras (Jason’s?) body, tightening each strap until her “flesh” swelled between them. Her new penis and balls were then delivered through the crotch ring, and the crotch strap pulled tight in the buckle on the waist strap, forcing the butt-plug deep into her rectum.

“Almost ready!” exclaimed Dodds, as he plucked another item from the dresser: a puffer bulb, which he attached to a valve at the edge of the mouth-plate. He watched Flora’s face as he pumped the bulb. Her eyes widened, her breathing quickening as her mouth was inexorably filled with soft rubber. When her cheeks were slightly distended, Dodds detached the bulb. He drew out a long burgundy rubber cape from the closet and draped it around his slave’s shoulders.

“There!” he pronounced, “a perfect image of male submission, ready to serve his Mistress in any way. Now, who do you suppose that Mistress is going to be, Jason?”

Mr. Dodds began to stroke her crotch with both hands. She strained to see, but the severe leather harness prevented her from bending more than an inch or two. Dodds turned her to the mirror and stepped back. “Jason” looked at herself in the mirror. She was indeed an excellent specimen of manhood, with broad shoulders, powerful legs and chest, all held in check by the tight body harness. Further, her engorged member proved beyond a doubt that no matter how strange it felt, this must be a dream- she really was a man, for as long as the dream lasted! Feeling slightly dazed, Flora allowed “himself” to be led by leash and collar downstairs.

When they arrived at the dining room, she got quite a shock, until she remembered who she was. Someone, (Flora?) was standing on the other side of the table, acting as servant in a very sexy, if bizarre, maid’s outfit. The third member of the household was nowhere to be seen.

Earlier in her dream, “Jason” had hoped to talk to the others, to find out how they felt, what they were going through, but now she saw this was not to be. She, of course, would never be able to talk with her mouth filled by the pump gag, and in addition, she recognized her own false-face mask on the maid’s head, the same one she had worn to the party that Mandy had followed Jason to. The thick rubber helmet was an exact duplicate of a female face, but she knew it was equipped with a thick, sponge filled rubber gag inside. The question was, who was inside: Mandy or Jason? They were about the same height, so it would be impossible to tell that way. Then she remembered- it would have to be either Mandy or Flora, not Jason. She herself was really “Jason”.

Dodds loosened some straps, then sat “Jason” down at the table, strapping her to the chair with the harness until she could barely move. He ordered the maid to serve brunch, “Exactly as I told you.” then walked away. For eating, “Jason’s” gag was removed, and she was spoon fed, like a baby. The breakfast/lunch was actually rather good, and she wondered who had cooked it, with all of them having been tied up most of the time.

It occurred to Flora that she might figure out who the maid was by how she walked, but she seemed to be having trouble walking, and a glance down showed why. She wore very shiny chrome-coloured thigh-high boots that had no apparent laces or fastenings, just barely visible seams along the sides. In addition to being very stiff looking, they had very high heels and ballet toes. As she walked about, the maid never bent her knees, rather she seemed to shift her hips until the heel cleared the floor, then swung her leg slightly, taking tiny, mincing steps. The boots were so smooth and polished to such a sheen that they might have been made from metal.

Suddenly “Jason” realised… they actually were metal. She was amazed that anyone could even stand in them, let alone walk around. But the maid continued to defy gravity, remaining upright, although she had to constantly shift her feet for balance, like a ballerina ‘en pointe’. All too soon, the mysterious Mr. Dodds returned, saying, “Now, my children, I’d like to show you what I’ve been working on.” He released “Jason” from her chair, re-tightening her harness. Snapping a lead to each of their collars, he led them to the basement stairs.

Part 13


Jason awoke in a slight stupor. His tongue felt thick, and his eyes were gummy with sleep. As he stared bleary- eyed around his room, he noticed how everything, the light from the window, the reflections from various objects in the room, had acquired a crystalline clarity, an almost dreamlike super-reality. For a moment, he wondered if he were still sleeping. He noticed, too that something was stuffed in his mouth, and his head and face felt odd when he touched them. He realised he was wearing some kind of rubber hood with open eyes, and nose holes for breathing. He felt himself become aroused, but the sensation seemed somehow incomplete, just a general warming in the vicinity of his crotch.

The next thing he noticed as he swung his legs over the bedside was an odd sensation of numbness that enveloped his body. When he absentmindedly scratched his crotch, something rang his alarm bells and he looked down- and nearly fainted with shock. I’m dreaming, he thought, I’ve gotta be dreaming.

For framing the view of his belly were two magnificent breasts and the swell of womanly hips was visible below them. He stumbled in a daze to the long dressing mirror. The view that greeted him there rocked him to his core.

He was a woman.

From his shapely legs up past the nude mons veneris, his gaze swept upwards, over the wide hips and surprisingly small waist, to his amazing breasts. They had no right to be there, but denying them didn’t make them go away. And worse, his face was not his own. He knew that heavily made-up feminine face in the mirror from somewhere. Then he remembered.

His first night with Flora and Mandy. It was the rubber false facemask Flora had worn that first night. Combined with what must surely have been a wig, it gave him a quite feminine and natural, if expressionless, woman’s face, with a pouting mouth and long lashes. His gaze returned to the breasts pointing at him from the mirror.

How is this possible? He wondered, hmm… about a ‘D’ cup, and nicely shaped, too.

He fondled them a moment, feeling already stiff nipples under his slightly numb fingers, but no sensation in the breasts. They were numb, senseless. That’s odd, he thought- Mandy says her breasts are quite sensitive. Well… if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I want to know what it’s really like to be a woman.

But this is strange… why do I feel so separated from my body? This is more like a drug trip than a dream. He had no idea how close he was to the truth. Jason would never have admitted it to anyone; even Mandy, his first love, but he had always had transsexual fantasies. The reason was not so much that he enjoyed women’s clothes, but rather that he wanted to BE a woman, at least temporarily- to feel what a woman feels. He had always suspected that women’s bodies had much greater capacity for sensual pleasure, and he was certain that women enjoyed sex more than most men.

He didn’t want to just get into women’s pants; he wanted their bodies. Now that he had one, he didn’t quite know what to do with it!

“Ahem,” said a voice.

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin! He turned to see Mr. Dodds standing in a shaded corner of the room, and grinning.

“Well, Flora, how are we feeling today? No, that’s alright, I know you can’t answer.”

Jason thought is that it- I’ve really become Flora? Then I am dreaming… aren’t I?

“No time to lose, dear,” commented Mr. Dodds. “First, I want you to install this dildo in that beautiful ass of yours.”

He handed Jason a large, anatomically shaped dildo made of chrome plated steel. It was equipped with a wide flange at the bottom, and was very heavy. It frankly terrified him. He wanted to shout at Mr. Dodds that this was his dream, and he wasn’t planning to suffer in any way- he was going to enjoy it- but then he realised- if this was a dream, anything could happen, couldn’t it? And deep down, he knew that he really did want this. He wanted to know what it was like for Flora when she submitted to Mandy’s most delicious torments.

He began greasing up the dildo with the KY jelly that Dodds provided, then his own tight bottom. To his relief, Dodds turned his back for this part. It took several slow tries before his sphincter relaxed enough to get the big dildo in, but when it finally slid home, “Flora” grunted with pleasure into his mask. Although it felt as if he had a telephone pole up his rear, he decided that he liked being a woman.

He wanted to pleasure his new body, but as soon as his hands wandered towards his crotch, Mr. Dodds said, “Ah-ah! none of that! We have many things to do, so hurry and put on the things I’ve laid out for you.”

He pointed to a pile of neatly folded items on the dresser.

“I’ll help you with the lacing and such,” he added.

“Flora’s” head was spinning… who am I really? How long can this last? This is just to good to be true, he thought in quick succession. In a daze, “Flora” moved to the dresser and picked up the top item, a panty girdle. It was a pretty, high waisted affair with short legs. It was made from heavy gauge rubberised spandex, coloured pink, which shimmered and glowed under the soft bedroom lights. As “Flora” was putting it on, he was dismayed to find the dildo slipping out. He had to pause several times to push it back up in embarrassment, much to the amusement of Mr. Dodds.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” soothed Dodds, “you’ll find that the girdle will keep it in place.”

With some effort, and some extra talcum powder, “Flora” slid the girdle on and closed the side zipper. As promised, the tight girdle held the dildo in, although loosely. The heavy weight of the solid metal dildo kept it sliding out, but the first step taken in the tight-fitting garment would send it slithering back in. The effect was distracting, to say the least.

The next item in the pile was a pink long-line rubber bra. He put it on, smoothing it over his new breasts, and tucking the bottom hem under the top of the girdle. It fit well, if somewhat tightly, revealing ample cleavage over the cups. Next was a pair of long black stockings, also of polished rubber, accompanied by a black patent-leather garter belt, with red trim. He pulled the stockings up over the legs of the panty girdle and fastened all six of the garters.

“Flora” was now covered in pink and black rubber from her toes to her chest.

At this point, Mr. Dodds announced, “Very nice! But now you’ve come to the hard part.” “Flora” glanced at the dwindling pile of clothes. With some trepidation, he picked up a heavy corset. It was quite a piece of engineering, he had to admit. He had seen corsets before in catalogues, but this one was different in a number of ways. It was covered in soft black leather, but its softness belied a much stiffer foundation. It was heavily boned with twelve curved steel stays, double-stitched in place, their thickness barely visible beneath the layers of canvas and leather. Instead of one, it had two curved steel busks, with gleaming chrome plated hooks, but unlike the other corsets he had seen, they were at the sides, not in front. It sported sixteen inches of lacing eyelets at the front and back. The top edge was curved to fit right up under the breasts, and its length extended well over the hips. In all, it was a very finely crafted and formidable garment.

After carefully fitting it in place, Dodds began lacing it up. It took quite some time, since he had to allow long breaks while “Flora’s” waist and lower ribcage adjusted to their new shape. After almost an hour, he had “Flora’s” figure tightly compressed in its rigid embrace. “Flora” could hardly breathe, but the stiff support clamping his torso felt strangely pleasant, a sort of mobile bondage. Dodds produced a tape from a pocket, and measured “Flora’s” waist.

“Twenty-four inches exactly! That’s about twenty-two inches underneath. Very good… Well? What are you waiting for? Keep dressing!” “Flora” was beginning to be glad that the window had been left open during the night, for the room was still cool and he was beginning to get warm under the layers of rubber and leather.

The next garment was an elaborate latex maid’s uniform, in black with white trim at hem and necklines, the skirt filled by several white latex petticoats. Putting it on was a lesson in frustration. He found himself quite unable to bend at the waist in the rigid grasp of the corset. Although he could bend at the hips a little, the bottom of the corset pressed into his hips and crotch. He ended up putting the dress on over his head. Once Dodds had zipped up the back, the low-cut bodice fit quite tightly, showing off his figure rather more than he would have liked.

A dainty rubber maid’s apron was attached to the dress, having fake ties around the sides, and frilly edges on the apron itself. The sleeves of the dress were puffed at the shoulder and ended in a tight cuff just above the elbow. To complete the outfit, Dodds handed him long white latex opera gloves, which he tucked under the cuffs of “Flora’s” dress.

“Flora” was now completely covered in rubber, without a square centimetre of skin showing. His face appeared natural, but this was an illusion, the cleverly coloured and moulded helmet clinging sweatily to his face. Only his wide eyes were actually uncovered, and could be seen staring excitedly through the eye-shaped holes.

Unknown to him, “Flora” was under a further layer of foam latex rubber, the suit moulded from Flora’s and Jason’s casts, giving him a perfect female form. It wasn’t long before the heat began building inside the nearly airtight costume.

His privates were bound in a leather cock and ball harness, then tucked into a shallow steel codpiece with leather-padded edges. Its smooth curves concealed his sex completely. The moulded female features of the foam rubber suit completed the illusion perfectly. But Mr. Dodds wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. Finally came a pair of the most incredible boots “Flora” had ever seen. At first he couldn’t see how anyone could wear them. They were finely crafted from thin stainless steel sheet, made into form-fitting thigh-high boots. The feet had nine-inch tall heels, ending in a “ballet” toe; the sole curved down to force the foot into an ‘en pointe’ position. The body of the boots were shaped into beautiful curves, with muscular-looking calves, and firm, rounded thighs. He wondered for a moment how they had been made.

“Here,” said Dodds, “I’ll have to help you into those.”

It turned out that the boots were made in two halves, front and back, and were made with small interlocking holes and studs along the seams. Each half was lined with a thin layer of foam rubber. “Flora’s” feet and legs were fitted carefully in place, then Dodds pressed hard to force the two halves together. With some effort, they snapped together, the studs locking into the holes, leaving an almost invisible seam. “Flora’s” legs were now solidly clamped into the unbending boots.

After helping “Flora” into the boots, Mr. Dodds had him toddle around the room.

“Well, aren’t you a beautiful creature!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get downstairs so you can fix breakfast.”

“Flora” had a tough time of it, as the boots were almost impossible to walk in, and he had to constantly make tiny steps back and forth to keep his balance. He was soon sweating from the effort of moving his legs without the use of his knees, swinging his hips to lift the heels clear of the carpeting. They made it to the dining room without mishap, however.

“I’ve laid out most of the food,” Dodds announced, “so all you have to do is cook it and get it on the table. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to keep your uniform clean.” So saying, he left the room.

“Flora” was beginning to like this new costume, for while the steel boots were uncomfortably rigid, they had a very sexy shape, giving him the chrome-plated legs of a dancer, or a muscular female android. He stood in front of the dining room mirror for a moment, running his hands over the smooth rubber. His waist felt strangely alien, incredibly small. He felt the heavy dildo slide out a little as his rear muscles relaxed, then slither into him again as he made for the kitchen.

Walking around Mandy’s “entertainment” style kitchen was a heavenly torture, as he strained to get out pans, boil water, and cook the considerable amount of foodstuffs that Dodds had set out. It was quite impossible to flex his legs, and the corset held his waist absolutely rigid, so that his only recourse was to bend right at the hips, holding onto counters and chairs for balance. This wasn’t especially easy, for his jogger’s legs were not very limber, and his muscles stretched painfully each time he bent over.

He was quite aroused now, but the thick latex girdle not only excited him, but dulled sensation as well, so that he never quite reached the point of release. When Dodds returned, he had “Jason” with him, along with some leather items in his other hand, and “Flora” marvelled at the complex harness and the chrome dildo fixed at her mouth. It seemed that they were all famished, as breakfast disappeared quickly, Mr. Dodds consuming more food than anyone, accompanied by vast quantities of black coffee.

When they were finished, “Flora” rose to clean away the remains, rather enjoying the servile role of maid, but Mr. Dodds stopped him saying, “Leave that, I’ll get it later. Right now, I’ve something I want to show you.”

He released “Jason” from the chair, re-tightening her harness. Then he pulled out a pair of “bondage mittens”, leather cuffs with tight-fitting bags which laced up, enclosing the hands. He showed her how they buckled to her harness at the outside of her hips. A few more straps attached to the harness at chest and waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

Next, he brought out a leather “single glove”, or arm-binder, and pulling “Flora’s” arms to the rear, slid it over them to his shoulders. Two straps secured it around his shoulders, and then Dodds laced it up tightly, pulling “Flora’s” arms toward each other, and thrusting out his breasts. Snapping a lead to each of their collars, he led them to the basement stairs, “Flora” tottering along on his impossible heels, and “Jason’s” leather harness creaking and squeaking.