So it seems that Razz n' Daz have fallen for another one of the devious "Baron Von Zeppelin's" tricky traps. Of course, this time he has a lesson to teach them...
"Well, it looks like someone has had a pretty fulfilling weekend! I hope you jiggling jizzbags don't mind your accommodations. They're state of the art, or so I'm told! See, I feel like you two don't appreciate how often you two have been putting an end to my very important and expensive bodies. So I thought, why not give you an appreciation of the experience? Or at least something similar.
I'm sure you've noticed that while the two of you have quite the capacity compared to your average stress relief toy, it's not infinite. As scary as that might be, however, there's no need to worry. Your physical selves are safe and sound (or so I'm told), and while you may bust like a defective condom, your consciousness gets shunted to the next unit in the line.
The boys (and girls!) are pretty pent up at the best of times, so you're going to get a LOT of use. But don't worry, all you have to do is use up all your replacements and you'll be free to go! Of course, this facility builds a new unit every... four hours or so. So you'd better get that average down! Of course, most weekdays are pretty busy and the minions have to sleep.... and... well, what I'm saying is...
Welcome to the Castle, girls~ You're going to be with us for a LONG time~"
Nori sets them in the trap and lets it run, for both his benefit (and the benefit of his minions.) Now, in most universes, normally they'd get rescued by some other cape, or some mishap would happen to break the machine and release them. And, of course, in most universes this
does happen.
But, for some reason, in this particular reality, it just
doesn't. Perhaps the capes don't like them enough, or it's far too entertaining to mess with, or the machine just never gets damaged by a mishap at the castle. Regardless of the reason, they remain stuck in this particular situation, longer... and
longer... Daz's telepathy, amplified through the machine, pervades through and amplifies Razz's thoughts in advertently. The experience of being a toy, not only being treated as less than a person, but also unable to
deny their enjoyment or desire in the situation, begins to wear on them. They can't even hide it because their only means of communicating is an open channel with anyone around them... which makes them easy to goad, and much harder for them to hide from their own thoughts.
Daz burst first, after all, Razz was the far more durable one. She exploded, only a few hours after being put in the machine, and it was terrifying and wrenching for Razz, to watch her partner erupt into a geyser of jizz and shredded rubber. She was stunned, at least until a new, fresh wobble "Daz" was inflated before her very eyes, Daz's consciousness shunted into it roughly to continue the experience uninterrupted. It would be her fate, too... but once she had a chance to experience it for herself, each subsequent "end" became more and more amusing.. and desirable for the both of them. It's their only way out, after all, and the more they fight, the longer it takes, which means the longer it would take to catch up.
Hours became days, which became weeks, which became months, which became years. Filled relentlessly before being obliviated in an explosion of spiff, only to be stuffed into the next copy and reinflated, ready to service the next cock that's shoved into their tight rubber holes. Then, one day, after a
particularly impressive showing by one of the minions, it dawns on them.
There's no way to catch up.
They're too durable, and the machine makes new copies too fast. They're simply trapped, forever, if the deal was ever meant to be upheld in the first place.
Even if the machine released them automatically upon running out of spares, it won't because the number of spares is too much, it grows by the day, increasing slowly by an order of magnitude every now and again as they futilely plead to be fucked into oblivion.
It's enough to break them. But ironically, there's little left to break.
They're too brainburnt by this point; their personhood has been ground down as the "toy" has taken over their minds, feelings, memories, and everything they are. What little thread of return there is snaps, and they let go. And what bliss! This is heaven. What more could they need? Sapience melts down to mere sentience, thoughts become feelings, and the two revel in their truth. They are two toys to be used, and used they shall be, and that is wonderful.
Then, one day, after a particularly bad accident, the castle is destroyed nigh completely along with nearly the whole of the city around. The cloning system keeping Von Zeppelin reviving malfunctions, the minions and ambulatory rubber toys escape from the destruction, and the city of Plasticity grows up around the ruins. However, miraculously,
this particular machine survives, coming to exist in a grown over area of the castle grounds. It's a while before the rubber folk of Plasticity discover them.
A pair of poor, hungry rubbers from pre-city life? Ancient and mysterious, and oh so friendly and
needy! The machine is barely scratched by some fortune, so the rubbers clean it up and make the area around it a fine park. They were surprised when the first pop happened, not uncommon, but generally requiring extensive repairs. These, however, simply returned, in a most amusing fashion at the push of a button.
After that, they built an elastic dome around to catch any launched paramours and the inevitable geyser of genetics that it involved. What an attraction! The polymers that made the copies were easy to come by, too! They'd built up so many spares that they shouldn't
ever run out, but it was easy enough to maintain, regardless, and the dark magic runes that held the machine together were quite robust. There
were a couple of pods nearby that were connected to the machine, but they were smashed beyond repair in the cataclysm and the connection to the machine itself had been destroyed. They didn't seem to be necessary for the machine to run at all, anyway, so they were scrapped, no longer seemingly having any use...
47, of course, visits the two on occasion and has a grand old time with them, plumbing their ancient rubber holes. They're quite tight, despite their rigorous use, and delightfully fun. They're always happy to see him in particular, too, welcoming him with great interest and adulation! With the help of the citizens of Plasticity, the machine should be a lovely centerpiece of the park for ages to come. With no more war or needless destruction abound, it should continue to run for centuries, if not longer... who knows? Maybe even
forever, or as long as it matters, anyway.
The citizens don't doubt that it makes Razzy and Dazzy
very happy. After all, it seems like there's nothing they want more than to serve the citizens of the city that shows them so much love~ And being functionally immortal, well, they will receive more love than they can
possibly imagine...
And so, at least in this instance, that is the final fate of the once proud capes turned public playthings — Razzy and Dazzy, the Perpetual Pre-Reconstruction Pleasure Toys of Plasticity.