Dollification: Part 3

The days blurred into a haze of unrelenting arousal for Tim, his cock straining futilely against the steel confines of the chastity cage from dawn until the women finally retired each night.

The spikes inside the tube dug in mercilessly with every twitch of excitement, a sharp reminder of his submission, while the electrodes around his balls hummed with the threat of shocks from Isabella's remote, which she kept clipped to her lingerie like a badge of ownership.

Victoria and Isabella reveled in their power, strutting through the house in the sluttiest lingerie imaginable—Victoria in sheer black lace teddies that hugged her massive tits and barely covered her shaved pussy, the fabric translucent enough to show her hard nipples and the outline of her swollen clit; Isabella favoring crimson satin corsets that cinched her waist and pushed up her perky breasts, paired with thong panties that rode high on her hips, exposing the curve of her ass cheeks.

They moved with deliberate sensuality, hips swaying, bodies brushing against each other in the kitchen, living room, and even the hallway, their laughter laced with moans as they teased him without mercy.

On the first morning after the locking, Tim woke to the sound of wet kisses and soft gasps from downstairs. He padded naked into the living room, the cage swinging heavily between his legs, already half-hard from dreams of latex and restraint.

There they were, sprawled on the sofa: Victoria straddling Isabella's lap, their lingerie-clad bodies grinding together. Victoria's hands roamed over Isabella's corset, pinching her nipples through the satin until Isabella arched her back, moaning loudly, 'Fuck, yes, squeeze them harder.' Isabella's fingers slipped under Victoria's teddy, rubbing circles over her pussy lips, the fabric darkening with her wetness.

'You're so soaked already, Vic. Taste yourself on my fingers later.' Tim's cock surged in response, the head pressing against the spiked interior, pain shooting through him like needles as he dropped to his knees without being told, crawling to their feet.

'Good morning, doll,' Victoria purred, extending one stockinged foot toward him, her toes wiggling invitingly. 'Start with my arches—rub deep, make it perfect, or you'll feel that zap.'

Tim's hands trembled as he gripped her foot, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, kneading upward along the sole while his eyes stayed glued to the scene above.

Isabella leaned in, capturing Victoria's mouth in a deep kiss, tongues sliding visibly, saliva trailing between their lips as they broke apart with a gasp. Victoria's free hand fondled Isabella's breast, rolling the nipple between her fingers, eliciting a throaty moan that made Tim's balls tighten in their ring.

His cock throbbed harder, spikes biting deeper, but he kept massaging, fingers working methodically over her heel and up to her calf.

Isabella noticed his predicament first, glancing down with a wicked grin. 'Look at that pathetic little cage—trying so hard to get stiff for us. Does watching us play make you ache, Tim? Bet you'd kill to bury your face in Vic's pussy right now.'

She pressed the remote's button lightly, sending a mild shock through the electrodes clamped around his balls—a quick, stinging buzz that made him yelp, his hands faltering on Victoria's foot. 'Not perfect, pet. Deeper pressure next time.' The jolt faded, leaving his sack tingling, but his arousal only spiked further, the pain twisting into perverse pleasure.

Victoria laughed breathlessly, grinding her hips down onto Isabella's thigh. 'Keep going, boy. Massage her now while I finger her.' She shifted, her hand diving between Isabella's legs, two fingers plunging into her slick pussy with a wet squelch, pumping in and out as Isabella bucked, moaning into Victoria's neck.

Tim switched feet, now on Isabella's, his palms slick with sweat as he stroked her instep, toes curling against his touch. The women's fondling grew more intense—Isabella's hand joining Victoria's between her own thighs, both sets of fingers working her clit and hole, juices dripping onto the sofa.

'Oh god, Vic, right there—fuck me with those fingers,' Isabella groaned, her body shuddering. Tim's cage felt like a vice, his cock leaking pre-cum that dribbled uselessly from the slit at the end, the spikes drawing tiny beads of pain where they pricked too hard. He whimpered, but pressed on, massaging with renewed focus to avoid another shock.

By afternoon, the routine intensified. They lounged in the kitchen, Victoria bent over the counter in her teddy, ass cheeks spread by Isabella's hands as she licked a stripe up her crack, tongue delving into her asshole before sliding down to suck on her pussy lips.

'Mmm, you taste like sin,' Isabella murmured, lapping noisily. Tim knelt at their feet again, naked and caged, alternating between rubbing Victoria's soles—now bare and pedicured, toes painted red—and Isabella's, the women's moans filling the air like music.

His erection attempted to swell once more, met with the familiar stab of spikes, forcing him to bite his lip bloody. 'Aww, poor locked boy,' Victoria teased between gasps, glancing back.

'Can't even get hard without punishment. Rub faster—make my feet feel good while she eats me out.' When his thumbs slipped, too distracted by the sight of Isabella's tongue flicking Victoria's clit, a sharper shock zapped his balls, the current making them contract painfully, his whole body jerking. 'Perfect or pain, doll. Learn it.'

Evenings brought longer sessions, the women drawing out their pleasure while denying his. One night, they lay tangled on the master bed—Victoria's room, now their shared domain—with Tim on the floor at the foot, knees aching from hours of service.

Isabella wore a sheer babydoll that did nothing to hide her erect nipples or the wetness between her thighs; Victoria in a crotchless bodysuit, her pussy exposed and glistening. They kissed languidly at first, lips parting to suck on each other's tongues, then hands explored—Victoria's fingers tracing Isabella's slit, dipping in to fuck her slowly, while Isabella tweaked Victoria's clit, pinching until she cried out. 'Harder, Isa—make me cum on your hand,' Victoria demanded, her massive tits bouncing as she humped the air.

Tim's hands worked tirelessly on their feet, one on each, massaging from heels to toes, sucking lightly on the big toe when Isabella commanded, 'Worship it like you'd worship our pussies if you were free.'

The taste of her skin, salty and warm, only fueled his teasing, his cock pulsing against the unyielding steel, spikes gouging deeper with each futile throb. Pre-cum pooled on the floor beneath him, his balls heavy and sensitive from the constant edging.

The women fondled each other to orgasm—Victoria first, her body convulsing as Isabella's fingers curled inside her g-spot, pussy clenching and squirting a little onto the sheets with a loud moan. 'Yes! Fuck, I'm cumming!' Then Isabella, riding Victoria's thigh while her hand rubbed her own clit furiously, grinding down until she shattered, juices smearing everywhere, her cries echoing.

Throughout, their teasing never stopped. 'Feel that ache in your cage, Tim? That's us owning your orgasms,' Victoria would say, wiggling her toes in his mouth.

Isabella added shocks for any imperfection—a too-light stroke earning a buzz that left him gasping, balls throbbing like they'd been slapped.

By the third day, Tim's body was a live wire of need, every glance at their lingerie-clad forms, every moan from their lips as they kissed and fingered each other, sending him into agonized bliss.

He massaged flawlessly now, desperate to avoid the pain, but the spikes were his constant companion, marking his skin with red welts. The women watched him suffer with gleaming eyes, their own pleasures heightened by his submission, plotting in whispers how they'd escalate—latex suits waiting in Isabella's shop, full dollification on the horizon.

'You're ours, locked and aching,' Isabella murmured one night, shocking him lightly as reward for a perfect rubdown, the mix of pain and their affection binding him deeper into their web.

After four days of Tim's unyielding teasing—his cock raw from the spikes' relentless pricks and his balls tender from sporadic shocks—Victoria and Isabella deemed him ready for the next phase.

'Time to make our doll real,' Isabella declared that evening, her eyes gleaming as she traced a finger along the cage, making Tim shudder. They dressed him in loose sweats to hide the bulge, then drove him to her shop under the cover of night, the city lights blurring past as his mind raced with anticipation and dread.

The store was shuttered, the neon 'Closed' sign flickering dimly in the window. Isabella unlocked the door with a jingle of keys, flipping on low lights that cast shadows over racks of whips, shelves of dildos, and displays of gleaming latex.

The air smelled of rubber and leather, thick and intoxicating. 'In the middle, pet,' Victoria commanded, pointing to the open floor space between a bondage bench and a wall of mirrors. Tim hesitated, heart pounding, but a warning glance from Isabella—her hand hovering near the remote—propelled him forward. He stood there, exposed under the harsh fluorescents, as the women circled him like lions.

'Strip,' Isabella ordered, her voice firm, crossing her arms under her breasts, which strained against a tight latex crop top that left her midriff bare. She paired it with a short leather skirt that hugged her hips, thigh-high boots clicking on the tile.

Victoria, in a sheer mesh bodysuit that revealed her curves and the dark patches of her areolas, smirked, her fingers toying with the remote now in her possession. 'Everything off, doll. Show us what we're transforming.'

Tim's hands shook as he peeled off the sweatshirt, revealing his lean chest, nipples already hardening from the cool air. Pants next, sliding down to expose the steel cage, his cock attempting to swell at their gazes, only to meet the spikes' bite.

He stepped out, boxers last, kicking them aside, standing naked save for the cruel device locked around his genitals. Pre-cum glistened at the cage's tip, his balls hanging heavy in the electrode ring.

'Good boy,' Victoria purred, stepping close to run a nail down his chest, circling a nipple before pinching it hard enough to make him gasp. 'Now, the real fun begins. We're encasing you head to toe in latex—turning you into our perfect, shiny doll.

No more glimpses of that body; just a smooth, helpless toy for us to play with.' Isabella fetched a large black duffel from behind the counter, unzipping it to reveal the pieces: a full-head hood with only mouth and nostril openings, long gloves, stockings, and the centerpiece—a skintight catsuit in glossy black latex, complete with built-in corset and rear access zipper. She laid them out on a nearby table, the material gleaming like liquid obsidian.

They started at his head, as promised. Isabella lubed her hands with silicone spray, the scent sharp and slick, then gripped Tim's hair, tilting his face up.

'Open wide for the hood.' He parted his lips, and she stretched the latex opening over his head, the cool, clinging material sliding down like a second skin. It molded to his scalp first, sealing his hair flat, then over his forehead, eyes—wait, no eye holes? Panic flickered, but Victoria soothed, 'Just a blindfold panel for now, doll.

We'll unzip it when we want you to see.' The latex stretched over his cheeks, hugging the contours of his nose, the nostril tubes fitting snugly to let him breathe. His mouth gaped through the oval opening, lips exposed for use.

Isabella tugged it down his neck, zipping the back seam from crown to collar, the pressure building as it compressed his skull, muffling sounds and heightening every sensation. Tim's world narrowed to touch and scent, the latex warm against his skin, already inducing a sweat that made it stickier.

'Look at that—already turning blank,' Victoria cooed, her fingers tracing the smooth dome where his features vanished, only the mouth hole betraying his humanity.

Tim's cock twitched in response, spikes jabbing as arousal built from the dehumanizing grip. A light shock buzzed his balls for the involuntary movement, making him jolt, the hood amplifying the vibration through his encased head. 'Stay still, pet. We're just starting.' Next, the collar: a thick latex band that Isabella buckled around his throat over the hood's edge, locking it with a small padlock that clicked ominously, restricting his swallows.

Moving downward, they tackled his upper body. Victoria sprayed his torso liberally, the lube cold at first, then warming as it spread. Isabella held the catsuit's torso section—arms out, legs separate for now—guiding Tim's hands into the sleeves.

The latex sleeves were impossibly tight, inching up his arms like living tendrils, compressing his biceps, elbows, forearms. 'Push, doll—feel it squeeze you,' she urged, her breath hot on his latex-covered ear.

Tim flexed, the material creaking softly as it encased his fingers last, the gloves integrated, sealing each digit in individual sheaths that allowed no bend without resistance. His hands became mitts of sensation, every nerve alive under the pressure. Victoria zipped the back from his wrists up to his shoulders, the seam fusing his arms to his sides temporarily, the built-in corset panels lacing next.

She pulled the cords tight, cinching his waist inch by inch—'Breathe out, in, out'—until his ribs protested, his chest heaving against the unyielding bind, tits flattening slightly under the shine.

The torso zipped around his caged cock and balls next, the latex pouch custom-fitted around the device, a small ring at the base securing it further. 'No hiding that pathetic lock,' Isabella laughed, patting the bulge where his genitals strained, the material translucent enough to show the steel outline.

Tim moaned through the mouth hole, the sound garbled, as the suit climbed his hips, hugging his ass cheeks, the rear zipper poised but left open for access. Spikes dug deeper with his growing erection, pain radiating, but the encasement trapped the heat, making denial exquisite.

Lower body now: Victoria knelt, spraying his thighs, the lube dripping down to his calves. Isabella fed his legs into the suit's lower half, starting with the feet.

'Toes first—curl them.' Tim complied, the latex stockings rolling up like stockings from hell, encasing each toe separately in thin, gripping layers that made him feel every floor grit through the barrier. Up his ankles, calves, the material molding to his muscles, compressing like a lover's unyielding grasp.

Knees next, the suit bending just enough for movement but restricting full strides. Thighs quivered as the latex climbed, squeezing his quads, then meeting the torso at his hips. Isabella zipped from ankle to crotch, the seam pulling taut, trapping his legs in glossy black perfection.

The asshole remained exposed for now, but the front came around his caged package, a small slit allowing urination but nothing more.

Finally, the full seal: Victoria connected the torso and legs, zipping from back to front in one long pull, the latex merging seamlessly. Air pockets vanished, the suit vacuuming against his skin, every hair, every pore sensitized.

Sweat beaded inside, lubing the friction into slippery tension. They added booties—latex coverings over his feet, flat-soled for doll-like steps, locking at the ankles with tiny buckles.

Isabella stepped back, admiring. 'From head to toe, our doll. Blank face, bound body, locked cock.' Tim stood there, a mannequin of latex and submission, blind and breathless, his only outlet the open mouth panting.

But they weren't done. Victoria fetched restraints: latex cuffs for wrists and ankles, chaining them loosely to allow service but no escape. Isabella attached a leash to the collar, tugging him forward.

'Walk for us, doll—show off that shiny ass.' Tim shuffled, the suit creaking, spikes punishing his persistent arousal as their hands roamed—slapping his encased cheeks, fingering the open rear to tease his hole.

'Perfect toy,' Victoria whispered, kissing Isabella deeply beside him, their moans vibrating through the shop. A shock zapped for a wobbly step, reinforcing control. Tim's transformation complete, he was theirs—head sealed in silence, body bound in latex, toes to crown a vessel for their whims, the dollification binding him eternally.

With Tim's latex-clad form quivering in the center of the shop, his exposed asshole pale against the glossy black suit, Isabella's eyes lit up with mischief. 'One more piece to complete the doll,' she said, her voice husky as she rummaged in the duffel again.

Victoria nodded, her mesh bodysuit whispering against her skin as she positioned herself behind Tim, spreading his cheeks with firm hands. The cool air hit his hole, making it clench instinctively, but the latex's grip on his thighs held him steady.

Isabella pulled out the plug—a thick, black silicone base with an inflatable bulb attached to a remote-controlled pump, wires trailing for vibration. She coated it generously in lube, the slick gel dripping onto the floor.

'Relax that hole, pet. This goes deep.' Tim's breath hitched through the mouth opening, his body tensing as Isabella pressed the tip against his entrance.

She twisted it slowly, the bulb stretching his rim wide, inch by inch, until the full length sank inside, the base nestling flush against his cheeks. His ass swallowed it greedily, the fullness pressing against his prostate, sending a jolt straight to his caged cock.

It strained harder, spikes piercing the sensitive skin, but the latex trapped the throb, amplifying the ache.

'Not yet,' Victoria murmured, watching Tim's hips buck slightly. Isabella pocketed the remote for now, the plug dormant but heavy within him.

'Arms back, doll. Time to bind those useless limbs.' Tim's encased hands, already mittened in latex, hung limp at his sides. Isabella grabbed his wrists, pulling them behind his back with unyielding force. The armbinder waited—a long, tapered latex sleeve reinforced with leather straps, designed to fuse arms from elbows to fingers into a single, helpless column.

She sprayed more lube inside it, then slid it over his joined arms, starting at the hands. The material engulfed his latexed fingers first, forcing them into a pointed tip, then climbed his forearms, compressing the muscles until they yielded.

Up to the elbows, shoulders—Tim grunted as it yanked his chest forward, the corset tightening further under the strain. Isabella buckled the straps one by one: at the wrists, mid-forearm, elbows, upper arms, each click locking tighter.

The final padlock snapped shut at the top, near his neck, rendering his arms immobile, a single black appendage jutting from his back like a tail.

'Perfect posture now,' Victoria praised, running her palms over the binder's smooth surface, feeling the heat of his bound body beneath.

Tim's shoulders burned from the pull, but the restraint forced his chest out, nipples rubbing raw against the inner latex. Pre-cum leaked steadily from the cage, soaking the suit's pouch. Isabella clipped a short chain from the binder's top ring to his collar, limiting head movement even more. 'Leash time.' She attached the chain to his collar's front D-ring and tugged, guiding the blind, stumbling doll toward the shop's front window.

The display area was a raised platform framed by velvet ropes, spotlit for passersby, with mannequins in harnesses flanking it.

But today, Tim would be the star. Isabella and Victoria maneuvered him up the step, his bootied feet slipping slightly on the slick surface. They positioned him center stage: knees slightly bent, ass toward the glass for optimal view, arms locked behind.

Chains dangled from ceiling hooks and floor bolts—Isabella secured his ankle cuffs to the base, spreading his legs just enough to expose the plug's base and the cage's outline through the hole in the latex.

A chain from the armbinder hooked to the ceiling, hoisting his bound arms higher, arching his back into a submissive curve. His hooded head lolled forward, mouth agape, drool already forming from the overwhelming sensations.

Victoria stepped back, admiring their work in the mirrors that lined the walls. 'You'll be on display all day, doll. Marketing the shop—drawing in customers who want to see a real latex toy in action.

Blind, plugged, caged, and bound. Our living advertisement.' Tim whimpered, the words sinking in through the muffling hood, his cock rock-hard against the spikes, pain and pleasure blurring as his deepest fantasy unfolded. The thought of eyes on him, even unseen, made his hole twitch around the plug.

Isabella checked the locks one last time, then kissed Victoria deeply, their tongues tangling as hands roamed over each other's bodies—Victoria's fingers dipping into Isabella's skirt, eliciting a moan.

"One last thing to complete everything”, stated Victoria as she slowly inserted a red rubber ball gag into his mouth.

His erection was rock-hard in the cage now. He had consented to everything.

'Time for me to open up,' Isabella said reluctantly, pulling away. 'You head to work, love. I'll handle the remote.' Victoria squeezed Tim's ass one last time, her nail scraping near the plug. 'Be good for her, pet. Or don't—punishment's half the fun.'

She grabbed her coat and keys, blowing a kiss before slipping out the door, the bell jingling as she left for her day job elsewhere.

Alone with their creation, Isabella flipped the 'Open' sign and dimmed the window lights just enough to tease without full reveal.

Customers trickled in soon after, murmuring at the shadowy figure in the display. Behind the counter, Isabella settled with the remotes in hand—one for the cage, one for the plug.

She watched Tim strain, his body a statue of desperation, then pressed the inflate button. The bulb swelled inside him, stretching his walls, filling him fuller, pressing relentlessly on his prostate. Tim's muffled cry echoed, his hips jerking against the chains.

Next, vibration—low at first, a steady buzz that radiated through his core, making his caged cock pulse futilely, spikes drawing blood-tinged beads.

But he was too still, too controlled. Isabella smirked at a customer's question about new stock, then hit the shock remote.

Electricity surged through the ball electrodes, a sharp zap that made Tim convulse, chains rattling as his body arched.

The pain shot up his spine, but it only hardened him more, the cage unyielding. She inflated the plug another notch, the pressure building to discomfort, vibrations ramping to medium—waves of teasing that milked his unreleasable need.

Tim's mouth worked silently, pleas lost in the hood, his dream of total objectification crashing over him in waves of agony and ecstasy. Passersby paused outside, peering at the writhing doll, the shop's allure drawing them in, while Isabella controlled every twitch from afar, her own arousal building at the power.