Fantasy Writing

The Making (& Breaking) of Toy 8391 – I. The Appraisal

This is part one of a story I wrote back in 2016, which I’m posting here for mine and Kittlen’s amusement. It incorporates elements from various places in Second Life, as well as D/s role-play that I’ve done with my mentor, Athena Leistone, to whom it is dedicated.

“Hey buddy! Wake up! Journey’s end!”

I wake up with a start at the loud knocking on the side door. The jet-lag must have caught up with me at some point.

I glance down, noticing I’ve managed to drool onto my shirt collar. Mortified, I straighten up and look over at the driver, stood outside by the side door. He appears completely unfazed by my somewhat dishevelled appearance.

“C’mon out, the fresh air’ll wake ya up. Smart move, taking the night flight over here from England. The sun’s just up, the place ain’t heated up yet.”

The side door opens. I stumble out onto the kerbside, squinting. My eyes adjust to the unimpeded rays of the sun, beaming over the tops of the hills in the near distance. I take a deep breath and stretch, feeling my muscles unknot themselves.

There is a click as the driver opens the car boot.

“I’d give ya a hand with your luggage, but you packed light. Saved yourself some backache and a few blisters. Heh, and saved me some fuel money, too.”

I walk around, and lift out the travel suitcase and carryall. My entire luggage for this journey. I’d lied and told the driver that I’d arranged to pick up new stuff here as and when I needed it. In reality, this is a one-way trip for me. All my other possessions are either sold off or given away.

I check I’ve retrieved everything from the passenger seat. I turn to the driver. “How much do I owe you?” I ask, fumbling with my wallet.

“Thought I told ya when I picked ya up. Already paid for. And then some. The lady said you were a priority delivery.” My ears redden at the mention of my Owner, I hope he did not notice.

“Well, I’d better start back up to the freeway, and go get some eats in me. Enjoy your stay.”

I thank the driver, and wave him off. He get into the car, pulls out, turns around and heads back up the road. I turn to face the outside of the large property.

Before me is a high white wall, punctuated by an archway containing a wrought-iron gate. Next to the archway is a plaque bearing the words ’Temple of The Mind’.

“I see you made it here in one piece, slave.”

I am startled out of my reverie, and look to locate the source of the voice.

“Your appearance… could be better, but under the circumstances I will let that pass. Not that it matters, you’ll be out of those clothes shortly.”

I realise the voice comes from an intercom pad in the archway. Looking upwards, I spot a security camera trained on me. I’d failed to see it, hidden amongst the ivy trailing over the wall.

A click, and the gate swung open.

“Get a move on, slave. We had much to discuss, and a full itinerary for the day.”

I bow my head. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl, I will be waiting for you inside.”

I am thankful that my Owner’s place is in a remote location, and no one is around to hear this conversation. My ears and cheeks burn as I hurry through the gateway. A pathway winds through a Japanese-style garden. In the distance, a large spacious house with cream walls and vast windows. Through one of the ground-floor windows, I make out a tall shapely female form watching me. I pick up my pace. My nostrils fill with the smell of cherry blossom. My arms strain to keep the suitcase in check as its wheels negotiate the gaps in the paving.

As I pull the suitcase up over the steps leading up to the house, a glass door slides out and sideways.

“Welcome to my humble abode” my Owner proclaims, as I stumble through the door and fall to my knees before her.

Mistress Athena had told me that she’d go easy on me at first, as I would be jet-lagged after my journey. But now, it occurs to me that her idea of ‘go easy on me’ is somewhat different to mine.

She is clad in an electric blue latex catsuit. It seems tailored to make her already shapely figure even more so. It has a wide vee in the front, from her neck down to just above her groin. Straps in the middle secure the material on either side to her breasts. Her nipples would poke out but for the built-in pasties on each side. Though their design just serves to advertise their size and prominence.

Black latex opera gloves and platform boots adorn her arms and legs. I feel both aroused and perturbed. They seem to blend into the catsuit, as if fused and melted together.

Her head framed by a cascade of dark red hair down to her waist, contrasting with her milky-white skin. Her ruby lips purse as she looks down on me with her piercing blue eyes. Eyes that seem to compete with her catsuit for the brilliance of their colour.

I look downwards towards her feet. Trying to resist glancing at the outline of the bulge between her legs. My own appendage strains in its cage.

I feel her gloved hand lift my chin up, bringing my gaze up to hers.

“No greetings, slave?”

I redden even more. “Hello, Mistress, it is good to meet you in person at last.”

She smiles. “You remembered to kneel before me, at least. And I am a poor host for not offering you some refreshments to revive you after your long trip. Come, slave. Leave your luggage by the stairs, you can take them up with you later.”

I clamber to my feet and move to deposit my luggage. My Owner strides away towards the kitchen area.

“I know you are partial to tea, so I bought some especially for you. I think you’ll like it”. I hear the hiss of water boiling, and the clatter of what I guess to be cups and saucers.

I find my feet taking me across the hallway to what appears to be a reception room. I’m unsure if I’m just dazed from the trip, or if my movements are… directed. I find myself seated in a plush leather chair. I hear the click of my Owner’s heels, and again feel the touch of her gloved hand on my face.

“There, now, my slave. I know the journey must have been stressful for you. You are a brave one indeed, agreeing to give up your old life and come here to serve me in person. Relax, my dear. You are home now.”

I become aware of a fragrant smell, and open my eyes to see a cup of tea on a saucer offered to me by Mistress Athena. I rise up from the chair to take the proffered cup. The thought pops into my head that I hadn’t heard the tea service brought in. Perhaps I had nodded off?

With hopes of clearing my head, I raise the cup to my lips and take a sip. The tea has a pleasant citrus smell and smoky taste, with just a hint of sweetness. I look at the table and notice a large ornate teapot and a filled cup beside it, but no milk or sugar. I struggle to remember if I had informed my Owner of my tea preference in our online conversation.

Mistress Athena sits down beside me. “Now, my slave, you must tell me of your journey here. I hope it went well.”

The tea had definitely had an effect on me. I find myself eager to recount my travails. The various odd looks I’d received from the security staff at both Heathrow and JFK airports. Not to mention the confusion of the stewardesses on the plane when I declined their offers of food. The poor businessman who heard me moan in the on-board toilet as I reinserted my buttplug. Mistress Athena commiserates with me over the screaming child who interrupted my sleep. At several points, she re-fills my cup, although I’m so busy talking that I don’t register. Nor do I see any sign of milk or sugar added, yet my tastebuds confirm their presence. I’m grateful for the reviving liquid, as I would otherwise have had a dry, sore throat from talking so much.

“A most entertaining tale, slave,” my Owner opines. “But the day is still young, and we have much to do. Or rather, I have much to do, to you.” She smiles, and strokes my naked arm.

The realisation that she’s touching bare skin brings me out of the relaxed state I’d entered. I see that I’m now completely naked, save for my chastity device and buttplug still inserted. I reach up to touch my face. My glasses are also gone, yet my vision has not altered with their absence. My jaw falls slack. What is happening? I look around the room. There is no sign of my clothing anywhere. Nor any sign of the tea service we had both been using moments earlier.

I feel my head turn, and my gaze meet that of my Owner. Her grin almost an equal of Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire Cat, and her eyes seem to fill my vision now.

“Do not concern yourself, slave. Relax. You don’t need those things any more. I am saving time by making you ready for the next stage in your journey to become my new toy. Now, stand.”

My limbs move of their own volition, no longer directed by my mind. In moments, I’m on my knees in front of Mistress Athena. She rises from her seat and stands in front of me, her crotch almost rubbing my face. My mind registers that I’m in the ‘Nadu’, or ‘teach’, position that she favours for me in Second Life. Although I’ve never assumed that position in the real world before.

My gaze rise up through the valley of my Owner’s cleavage to her face. Despite my nakedness, I feel warmth and arousal. My caged cock throbs. My nipples seem to be throbbing as well.

Mistress Athena pouts down at me. “By now, slave, you’ve guessed that that was a particularly… special tea you consumed. I added a few extra ingredients into the pot. Oh, and some… special cream.” Her grin grows wider. As do my eyes.

“Yes, slave, a little of my… essence… is inside you, and by now has traversed your entire system. My work on your mind, coupled with your work on your body, have rendered you… fertile ground. You are to be… reborn.”

She crouches down in front of me and reached out to cup my chastised genitals with one hand.

“I’ll bet you must be aching with need. Plugged and locked for so long. And now with the added bonus of being in my direct control. Look how swollen you are! But have no fear, I will allow you release… sometime.”

I’m unable to turn my head. It feels held in an invisible, unyielding brace. I whimper.

“Oh, my poor pet! Let mommy kiss you better!” My Owner kisses me on the top of my head. My voice falters in my throat. I’m rendered mute!

She walks around and behind me. A hand at my backside, wiggling the buttplug around. “Your asspussy is well stretched. Ready for my cock. Good girl!”

She return to my field of view, standing with a hand on her chin. For what seems like an eternity, she is silent, contemplating the sight before her.

“All things considered, slave, you have done a good job of preparing yourself for me. Not feminine, but definitely androgynous. You appear in excellent health, little flab, toned but not muscular. I would mark you down for personal grooming, perhaps. But I know you have struggled in that department due to your genetic disposition when it comes to body hair.”

Mistress Athena produces a collar made of thick black rubber in one hand. A metal plate in the front of it bears the inscription ‘8391’. She crouches, and I feel her attach the collar around my neck and click it shut.

“Actually, this isn’t just for show, slave. It is the first part of the new you. The first of many parts I’ll be adding to you. I’ll let you ponder what those might be. Now, rise.”

I’m more shocked that I don’t feel any pain or discomfort in my knees, as I’m once more moving without thinking. Soon, I’m stood upright facing my Owner.

“Follow me, pet.”

I follow her from the reception room to the hallway. I notice that my suitcase and carryall are no longer where I’d deposited them.

“They’re somewhere safe. You won’t be requiring any items from either of them. Mistress will be tending to all your needs… and hers.”

She pauses, and turns towards me.

“Oh, there is one matter I need to attend to before I take you upstairs to begin your transformation.”

In her hand is my passport. She flips it open to the back page.

“Per our agreement, your life as you knew it till now is at an end. By travelling here and stepping across my threshold, that is now binding. I know you thought long and hard about making this commitment. I appreciate and respect your courage in going through with this. I, in turn, will honour my side of the agreement. Your friends and family will not fret or fear at your disappearance. In fact, they won’t even think about you any more. Nor will anyone in authority have any record of your existence.”

Before my eyes, the passport photo and text fade away. In moments, there’s no indicating that they had ever been there. Mistress Athena snaps the passport shut. I see no name on the front.

I scrunch my eyes shut, feeling a sudden sense of emptiness. Fear grips me. Try as I might, I cannot summon up any memory of my family, my school days, my childhood. Who am I? No answer.

I feel a kiss on my cheek, and a voice whispers in my ear.

“You are 8391. You have always been, and always will be. You belong to Athena. You have always been my slave, my pet, my toy.”

My eyes open. I look at her, feeling tears well up. My head nods, and I mouth the words “Thank you, Mistress.”

She cups my face with both hands. “You are most welcome, 8391. Now, my pet, it is time to cleanse and prepare your body. As cute as you are now, I have needs that you cannot satisfy in this form. I intend to reshape you so that you can best serve me.”

A measure of control return to my limbs. My Owner starts walking up the staircase. I trot behind her. There is no hesitation. I feel my mouth pull into a wide smile…

Continued in part two

By Supermarine Spitfire

Kinky Geeky Pansexual Genderqueer Gynoid. Does *Not* Transform Into A WW2 Fighter Plane

2 replies on “The Making (& Breaking) of Toy 8391 – I. The Appraisal”

If you wish to comment using textual input, please do so below. Voice input is not supported at this time, so please do not shout at the screen. (Also, you look really weird doing that.)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.