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Oberon van Hart

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Fuckdoll Factory Pt2 - Valerie


This one was Rando’s commission for November, and it’s special in more than one regard. First, it’s a sequel to Fuckdoll Factory, an old story I posted on Bdsmlr. Second, it was written over a much longer time frame than anything I did before, and perhaps as a result, it also became quite longer than I thought it would. 

I still think it’s a good story. After a long period of health and mood issues, it helped a lot in getting my mojo back at any rate.


ONE

Running the Fuckdoll Factory came with a lot of advantages - great income, unlimited access to sex slaves and good standing with some of the most powerful people of the planet. “Lots of free time”, unfortunately, was not one of those advantages. There was always something going on - a troublesome Doll, a careless employee, a nosy police detective… Jezabel took care of each of those complications, but they left her with very little time for herself. The only times she went out partying these days, in fact, were when she was about to “recruit” a new Fuckdoll - which was exactly why she never delegated that task to anyone else.

Now she was standing by the counter of a fetish club in Berlin, sipping drinks and waving guys away one after another. These clubs were her favorite hunting grounds - those attending them had to be at least a little kinky, after all, which tended to make their dollification easier. She took multiple girls into consideration - they all looked young, dumb and drunk, making them ideal recruitment material. But her eyes kept wandering back to a lone businesswoman enjoying the show from a table in the back. She seemed closer to thirty than twenty - older than anyone Jezabel ever trained; and she looked much more like a domme than a submissive. She had a perfect posture, a strict hairdo and a cold fire in the big blue eyes that made men give her a wide berth.

She was her big game. The challenge of a lifetime. She had to have her.

Ten minutes later Jezabel was already sitting at her table. During the next thirty minutes she learnt that her name was Valerie, she was from the Netherlands and she was in Berlin for a business trip. 

An hour later they were kissing on the dance floor. Valerie barely had time to feel surprised when the injection needle sunk into her butt cheek. The next moment she collapsed into Jezabel’s arms and the rest was child’s play.


TWO

When Valerie finally regained her consciousness it took her quite a few minutes to comprehend her situation. She was fully naked save for the tight latex hood on her head, and strapped down to a rubber mattress with a dozen or so leather straps. Though she couldn’t see or hear a thing, she could tell she was enclosed in a small, coffin-like space - whenever she exhaled she could feel her breath rebounding from a surface just a few inches away from her face. 

Her muffled screams and desperate attempts to break free produced no other result than exhausting her, so eventually she forced calm onto herself - she could do nothing but wait for her abductors to return. At last she could feel the bed being rolled out of its storage space. Her restraints were undone and she was dragged, against her best efforts, to the middle of the room. Leather cuffs were strapped to her wrists and ankles, chains were pulled tight, and soon she was hanging in the air, stretched out in the shape of an X. 

Someone peeled the hood off her head and she was staring into a face that felt vaguely familiar, but it took her a few seconds to place it. It was the same face she saw last before her abduction, but she barely recognized it without the big blond wig, the pink glasses and the heavy make-up.

Not make-up, she realized. Disguise.

“Erika!” she moaned. “What is this?! Let me go at once! You hear me?! Let me…”

The woman raised the cattle prod in her hand and sent shock into her diaphragm, rendering her unable to draw breath for several seconds. Valerie fell silent in an instant, jerking her chains in mindless panic.

“The name is Jezabel, actually.” the woman smiled. “You will call me Mistress Jezabel, but most importantly… 98, rule number one.”

“Rule number one, thiss fuckdoll never sspeakss unless sspoken to” a girl said behind Valerie, speaking with a nearly unintelligible lisp. “If it hass ssomething to report, it assumes a sstandby possition and waitss until addressed by itss owner.” Her words were accompanied by the clinking of metal, like she was holding ball bearings in her mouth. 

“I’m not a fuckdoll!” Valerie screamed. “I’m a free citizen of the Nether…” her words were cut in half by another shock.

“That’s right, you are not a fuckdoll. Not yet” Jezabel replied. “You still have a long, long way to go to be worthy of that title. You need to be trained. Improved. Modified. But worry not, babe. You’re in the best of hands.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at her floor in front of her. Three Dolls walked forward from behind Valerie and knelt by Jezabel’s feet. They were all finished, market-ready products, and quite spectacular ones at that - each had voluptuous breasts, a wasp-like waistline and were covered in shiny black latex from head to toe. Their bodysuits left their boobs and crotch uncovered, and as they turned towards Val she saw heavy stainless steel rings pierced through their labia, nipples and septum. 

Her face turned pale and her lips started to quiver as she realized what kind of future the Factory had in store for her. A cold, content smile appeared on Jezabel’s face.

“Process her.”

THREE

Jezabel’s intuition was right like always - Val was a difficult case. During the following hour, while the Dolls depilated her body and cleaned her inside and out, she didn’t stop fighting her fate for a minute. No matter how many times Jezabel shocked her she just kept screaming and jerking against her restraints; so much so, in fact, that eventually she got bored of her hissy fit and silenced her for the last stages. By the time she was given the buzz cut and had her scalp shaven bald, all she could do was scream into her gag furiously. 

She didn’t start crying, however, until Jezabel proceeded with installing the grommets into genitalia. It was more out of pain than fear, but it was still progress. At last she was starting to get under her skin - quite literally. Before long Val’s nipples, labia and septum were all featuring the same piercings the rest of the Dolls had - thick, load-bearing rings that would prove invaluable for her training. Jezebel gave her clitoris a hard pinch.

“Don’t forget there is a place for one more. We’ll skip it for now, because destroying your clit could make you unable to cum… but don’t make me reconsider my kindness.” She snapped her fingers again. “And now… the control unit.”

Fuckdoll 92 fetched a full metal device from the table and showed it to Valerie. She started shaking her head in outrage and flexed her muscles against the chains holding her captive. The design of the device left little doubt about its function: it was a stainless steel dildo attached to a curved plate that had a series of horizontal rods extruding from it on both sides. Despite Valerie’s best attempts, the dildo was soon firmly embedded into her pussy, the plate now covering her crotch completely. The rods were passed through the labia grommets, locking it into place.

Jezabel grabbed a wand-like device and pointed it at Valerie, a menacing smirk playing on her face.

“All right, that was it. Game over, dear. You are mine now.”

She pressed a button on the wand. Valerie gave out an unearthly shriek as a harsh electric shock jolted into her vagina. It was even worse than the prod - pure, undiluted pain biting into her most sensitive parts and wrenching her guts. 

“Release her,” Jezebel said.

Her cuffs undone, Valerie collapsed onto the floor. She tried to wriggle to her feet, only to be sent back to her knees by another shock. 

“Stay down,” Jezebel warned her. Valerie bit onto her gag and tried to rise again. Jezebel pushed the button again and held it down until her captive was writhing on the floor in a fetal position, her fingers clawing at her control unit.

“You are mine now” she repeated. “Until you’ll be ready to be sold, that is. Then you’ll belong to someone else. But no one will ever think of you as a person again. The sooner you make peace with that fact, the better off you’ll be.”


FOUR

Every fuckdoll had a weak spot - some kind of emotional vulnerability that allowed them to be controlled like a puppet by the strings. Some had rather peculiar ones that took real mastery to discover and utilize. Among the more recent recruits, for example, 98 was a sucker for humiliation - not that it liked it, but it was just powerless to resist its effect on her. It was all stiff and uptight right until Jezabel started to use its mouth as her urinal; after that, its training went like clockwork. For a good while, it was actually Jezabel’s favorite Doll to work with. It was just so much fun to bitch-slap and demean it, to feed it from a trash bin and make it lick her ass, and get nothing but a dripping pussy and unquestioning, silent obedience in return. By now it was already in the showroom, waiting for a buyer. Its info card showed: “Low intelligence, high libido. Dislikes pain, aroused by degradation. An user-friendly, easy to train fuckdoll.”

99, who was 98’s girlfriend and abducted at the same night, was cut from a whole different cloth. It hated being used, both as a fucktoy as and as a torture doll, and kept crying all the time, so it seemed completely useless at first. But it was very grateful for even the smallest acts of kindness, and eventually Jezabel ended up forming a sort of Mommy domme relationship with it. If it did well, she allowed it to hug her feet for a couple of minutes and kept stroking its bald head ever so softly. Finally she bent close to its ear. “There, there” she purred. “Now, what do you think, are you ready for the studded one? Would you like Mommy to fuck you in the ass with her big, bad, studded dildo? Come on, I know you can do it. You will be a brave little Doll and do it for Mommy, won’t you? That’s Mommy’s good Doll.” Soon 99 joined its lover in the showroom, its card stating: “Soft and sensitive. Hates humiliation, pain and anal, quick to cry. A delicate doll easy to break and reshape to your liking.”

The new Doll, 113, was a pretty straightforward case in this regard. Its weak point was lust: it was a true slut at heart. It just had to be made to realize that fact.


FIVE

By the end of its third ODT, the Doll once known as Valerie was either on the edge of insanity, or already well past it. Even it couldn’t tell which was the case.

ODT stood for Orgasm Denial Therapy. ODT sessions lasted roughly a week, but 113 had no way to tell that; each one felt like an eternity. ODT meant being secured onto a metal chair-like frame with its legs far apart and being fucked in the ass by a self-lubricating dildo. Very slowly. At the same time, its control unit kept massaging its vulva and clitoris, also very slowly. Very carefully. Keeping 113 on the verge of an orgasm all the time, without giving it the slightest chance to get to the climax.

113 had a VR set strapped onto its head; the set was playing some really lovely, nicely shot lesbian porn flicks featuring a bombshell blondie and a really hot redhead. 113 tried closing its eyes at first to resist what was clearly a crude attempt to brainwash it into one of these pathetic Fuckdolls. But there was no escape from the choir of lustful moans echoing in the earphones, and the teasing of its pussy and anus felt really nice, so in the end it decided she might just as well watch. 

From that point, 113 was lost.

Hours later, when the relentless teasing and denial turned it into a dripping, trembling, hysterical mess, 113 was released from the chair, force-fed and put back to storage, tightly bound and with an isolation hood on its head. It could barely catch four hours of sleep when it was taken out, fed, had its anus cleansed and then was strapped back to the chair.

Three hours in the chair. Two in the storage drawer. Six in the chair. Four in the drawer. Eight in the chair. Six in the drawer. No training or torture, no human contact at all. Just the porn, the assfucking and the vibrators, or the blind silence of her hood. Over, and over, and over again.

Then at one point, long after 113 lost the track of time, the stimulation suddenly switched off, leaving the dildo wedged halfway into its ass. The girls in the headset stopped eating each other’s pussy and turned towards her, smiling.

“Hello, Doll!” the blonde said. “You thought we didn’t know you were watching us all this while, did you? Of course we did. If only you knew how hot it was to have all these wonderful orgasms knowing you are out there watching… being teased… being denied… never ever getting to cum.”

They both laughed. 

“But you didn’t really hate it either, did you?” the redhead said. “I bet you’d like us to continue. Would you like us to continue? You only need to ask.”

“Please continue,'' 113 wheezed. The constant teasing was nothing short of maddening, but now that it stopped, its absence felt even worse. “Please, oh please, I want it, I need it…”

The machines switched back on as the redhead knelt between the blondie’s legs and started to eat her pussy. 

“There you go,” the blondie sighed. “Now that’s better, isn’t it. Would you like us to go on? Then tell me what you are. Tell me that you are a slut.”

“I’m a slut” 113 whispered.

“Louder!”

“I’m a slut!” 113 moaned. “I’m just a shameless, filthy, sex-addict slut, is that what you want to hear?”

“Very good. Now tell me what you want to be. Tell me you want to be a fuckdoll.”

“No!!!” 113 screamed. “I will never… ever… be… a fuckdoll, you hear me!? You hear me, Jezabel?”

“Well, that’s a pity,” the blondie said. “Let’s give you, I don’t know, twelve hours in storage, then, hmm? For starters. Let’s see if you get a little more sensible by the time we are back.”


SIX

Lady Madeline strolled across the showroom at a leisurely pace, checking the info cards one after another. Eventually she gave out a hearty laugh and pointed at the Doll in question.

“What the fuck, Jez?!” Fierce and rebellious, needs a firm hand. High pain threshold. Huge libido, responds well to orgasm control. An insubordinate Doll for those who like a challenge. I mean… who the fuck wants a rebellious fuckdoll

A faint smirk appeared on Jezabel’s face. She and Madeline were going way back, so she knew she was mocking her only in the hope of a good story. 

“You know, Mad, I think you’d love this one, actually. Her name was Valerie, and she was quite like us - I think that was exactly why I recruited her. To see what kind of Doll we’d end up becoming.”

Madeline giggled.

“A thrilling experiment if I ever heard one. Aaand?”

“Well, it was doing quite a lot of ODT. Twenty-one full sessions, to be exact. One time I took it out of therapy, ungagged it, it started cursing, I put it right back for another week. Twenty-one sessions, Mad. It doesn’t even remember its own name anymore. It doesn’t remember a thing about Valerie - her job, her family, her friends, not a fucking thing. But it still knows how to curse. And it still insists it’s not a fuckdoll.”

The two dommes shared a hearty laugh. 

“You can submit it to the worst tortures you can devise for hours on end. It won’t faint, it won’t plead for mercy, and in the end it will still be cursing. Teasing and denial, physical distress, extreme isolation, it will take it all without ever breaking. It will eat your pussy all day and night - not out of fear or obedience, but because it knows the only kind of orgasm it can experience is yours. It functions like a machine, like a high-end, high-performance sex machine… and yet it keeps insisting it isn’t one. It would be the very best Fuckdoll I ever made, hands down, if only I’d cut its vocal cords. But in the end I decided to leave that decision to its owner. It’s pretty fun as it is, if you ask me.

Madeline smiled at 113 and softly stroked her rubber-coated head. The Doll twitched from the unexpected touch and started to shake its head wildly. 

“Yeah” Madeline mused. “I guess you are right, Jez - I’d be a Doll just like this one. Oh fuck this. It would be just irresponsible to leave it for a less qualified owner, wouldn’t it?” She grabbed 113 in the pussy, eliciting muffled moans of outrage. “Oh yes, that’s the spirit. I’m sure it will last a lot longer than its predecessor, at the very least.”

“This one?” Jezabel’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “This one, Mad, will last you a lifetime.”
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Oberon van Hart

Good Morning, Princess

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Oberon van Hart

Prisoner

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Sweet Dreams


The bed was made of hardwood, and not designed for comfort. When the straps holding her down were pulled as tight as possible, having any actual sleep on it was nearly impossible; only half an hour in her neck, back and butts were already hurting badly from the pressure she had no chance to alleviate. But more often than not the straps were set a little loose… just enough to make her helpless wriggling a more entertaining sight.

And she always had plenty of reasons to keep wriggling. 

“Hey Ginny, guess what I have here!” A chair was being pulled by the bed. Jasmine sat down, put her legs on her abdomen and she heard paper rustling. “Your confession notebook! Your hubby was kind enough to give it to me, so that I can, you know, get to know you better. Let’s have a look at your darkest, dirtiest fantasies then, shall we…”

Gina tried to object, but in the given situation there was little she could do to communicate her discontent.

“Confession number one. This slave is unworthy of pleasure and should be given none. She should be kept in strict orgasm denial until she learns to find joy only in pleasing her owner… and here’s a checkmark. Yeah, I guess this one is already taken care of, isn’t it.”

Gina could feel the vibrators stuffed into her cunt and butt come to life. The next second they were joined by the vibrating pads taped onto her nipples and clit. A lustful cry escaped past the rubber ball filling her mouth as she started to squirm against the straps. She knew all too well that her pleas would fall to deaf ears. The system was carefully fine-tuned to keep her on the edge of the climax without ever driving her over it, and her orgasms were considered a rare, precious reward rather than something granted at a whim. But after weeks of merciless teasing and orgasm denial, she was no longer in control of her libido. From the moment the devices switched on until the point they were turned off she had to keep jerking and crying and trying to get over the edge, oftentimes for hours, and never to any avail.

“All right,” Jasmine giggled. “Confession number two. This slave is unworthy of freedom and she should be given none. She should be kept in constant bondage day and night, her movement, speech and sight always restricted as much as feasible. Another checkmark… Yeah I don’t know. David does a pretty good job in this regard, but I think I have a couple of ideas to make it more intense. Like, I think you should do the dishes not only cuffed but also blindfolded. I guess you are going to break a plate or two at first, but I’m sure you get into it in no time… given the proper incentives.”

Gina gave out a muffled groan and her clit grew even harder. She hated, hated each and every second of the past two months, but even more so the fact that she found it so unnaturally arousing. She has long prided herself being a true no-limits submissive, forgoing all her limits for her husband’s pleasure. But her stupid, useless little sister becoming her husband’s lover, moving in and slowly turning into her Mistress was too much even for her - or it should have been, at least. She couldn’t deny it, however, that a part of her loved the thrill of being the hapless sex toy of two very imaginative owners. She always suspected that Jasmine had a kinky streak in her, but the reality surpassed even her wildest expectations.

 “Confession number three. This slave is unworthy of any mercy and she should be given none. She should be punished harshly  for the tiniest mistakes, and made to suffer for her owner’s enjoyment on a daily basis. Checkmark. Oh sweetie… You know, whatever your husband has done to you so far, I’m afraid you still have no idea what it means to suffer, to really suffer for someone else’s enjoyment. But worry not, you will find out… soon enough.”

There was something in Jasmine’s voice that made Gina’s stomach churn in terror. She started to jerk against the sleepsack with full force… but there was no way out. Not out of the merciless teasing of the devices, not out of her sister’s company… not out of the hell was life was slowly turning into.

“Confession number four. This slave is unworthy of human rights. She hereby renounces her safe word and fully submits to the will of her owner from this day to the end of her days. Her pleads and objections should be disregarded, and she should be granted no limits, no breaks and no clemency. Checkmark… You know, sis, this is the first one I have a tiny little problem with. Because, yeah, I damn sure love to tease and torture you until you scream, knowing there is nothing, nothing at all you can say or do to stop me. But can’t help wondering… how much do you really want me to stop? Are you really so sick in the head that you enjoy everything we do to you? Or do you already regret that you condemned yourself to a lifetime of despair… with no way out? A little bit of both, right? Oh yes. And I’ll do my best to keep it that way. To make you regret being such a perverted, submissive slut, day after day, every single day… of the rest of your fucking life.”

Jasmine pulled up her skirt and sat onto Gina’s sleepsack, positioning her crotch over hers. She slid a vibrator between her moist labia, pressing its tip against the heavy rubber covering her sister’s pussy. She switched on the toy and started to move up and down, making Gina erupt in muffled moans of pleasure. The devices alone were not enough to get her over the edge, but with the help of Jasmine’s vibrator… maybe… just maybe…

“Let’s flip a few pages, okay?” Jasmine breathed. “I wanna find something without a checkmark. Something too cruel or depraved even for your Master… let’s see. Ah yes. Confession twenty-three. This slave should have all her meals seasoned with her owner’s pee. Additionally, her mouth should see use both as an urinal and as an ass wipe… Well, that’s really not much to ask for! Consider it the part of your daily regime from tomorrow.”

Gina could hear Jasmine’s breath getting quicker as she was getting ever nearer to the climax.

“I love being the one who makes your deepest, dirtiest desires come true” Jasmine panted. “I know you never really liked me as a sister, but you are going to love me as your Mistress. Damn sure you will. You better.”

“Confession thirty-nine” she continued. “This slave is unworthy to be considered human and should be turned into a ponygirl instead. She should be denied speech and the use of her arms permanently. Her diet should consist of watery gruel and raw vegetables. She should spend her days pulling her owner’s cart or carrying heavy sacks. She should be made to sleep standing, like a real pony… Oh, this one is lovely. Perhaps we could rent a secluded farm next summer, get off the grid for a month or two… Just imagine the things I could do to you with not a soul to hear! I’m afraid I wouldn’t be a very responsible pony owner, but geez, it’s gonna be so much fun!”

She pulled away the vibe for a few seconds to keep them both from cumming.

“Okay… one last confession” she wheezed. “Sixty-four. This slave in unworthy of beauty. Her looks should make it clear that she is a brainless fuckdoll rather than a respectable woman. Wow. Her tits and lips should be enlarged to… uhh… obscene proportions. Conversely, her waist should be reduced to fifteen inches or less through starvation, corsetry and surgeries. Oh fuck. Her tendons should be shortened so that she’d be unable to walk without high heels. She should have her teeth removed… uhh… and her tongue heavily pierced, turning her mouth into a true fuckhole and incapable of human speech. Her body and head should be completely hairless… oh yeah… covered with degrading tattoos… and adorned with grotesque… genital… piercings… OH… MY… GOD!!!”

Jasmine exploded in a long series of ecstatic screams, then collapsed onto her sister. For the next few minutes she just laid there with her head against her latex-clad chest, listening to her drumming heartbeat and the buzzing of the nipple vibes. Finally she crawled forward and grabbed her hooded head.

“You know, slave, this last one is my favourite” she droned into her ear. “I see why David wasn’t into it, given his preference for natural beauty and all. But now that I’m here for him, I think I can make him change his mind. Yeah, I’m quite sure I can. If she needs someone to go out with, someone pretty, someone decent… I’ll always be there for him. So he can finally turn even your wildest dreams into reality. You may become what you always wanted to be. What you always really were. A fuckdoll.”

She gave out a childish giggle.

“It seems you are also going to make my old dream come true. Just a few years… a couple of surgeries, some tattoos and piercings… and no one will ever call you the “prettier sister” again. Ha ha ha ha.”

She got off the bed and fetched the remote for Gina’s vibrators.

“You had six hours of sleep last night, so you should be all right with four this time. I’ll set the system to switch on for every even hour and let you rest in every odd one. Try to catch some z’s, you have a pretty demanding day ahead…”

She kissed her rubber-coated forehead.

“Have some sweet dreams, dear Ginny. And may they all come true.”
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