Message-ID: <4892eli$>
X-Archived-At: <URL:>
From: (MC Woodsmoke)
Subject: The Perils of Supergirl V1.1 by Richard Marnet (bd/nc/mc/latex/magic/tech/statue/tg/encap)
X-Auth: c15dded7950c4b0cc6928491
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <>
X-Story-Submission: <>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6213fa$gf2$>

This is a rather weired story, with many damsels in 

I DID NOT write this story and DO NOT have any claim on it.  
If you wish to contact the author, an email address is 
supplied but it is indicated that all flames will be piped 
to /dev/null.

NOTE This is an update to V1.0 there are updates
and additional story.

The Bondage Perils of Supergirl V1.1
by Richard Marnet (c/-


*** Copyright (c) 1997 - All Rights Reserved ***
        This is a work of pornographic fiction intended for 
adults only.  It describes sexual acts and behaviour in 
explicit and graphic detail.  Only read this story if you 
have reached the age of sexual consent in your country.

        This story is entirely fictional.  The characters, 
places and events depicted in this story are not intended to 
represent or resemble any real persons, places, or events.  
Any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

This story is a work of extremely explicit and graphic 
sexual fantasy.  The depiction of any act in this story, 
including, but not limited to, non-consensual sexual 
activity, oral/vaginal sex, heterosexual and homosexual 
acts, encapsulation, use of drugs and other mind-altering 
substances on an unwilling or unknowing human being, and 
degradation, humiliation, restructure/forced sex-change or 
enslavement of a human being should not be construed to 
imply that the author condones the performance of said act, 
either on the author's part or on the part of anyone else.  
This is not a story for narrow minded people or for people 
who cannot distinguish between fantasy and reality.  Leave 

YOU, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.  Note: This story is a work of 
FICTION.  The story, names, and events depicted in this text 
are fantastical.  No names are changed, as no one is 
innocent or real in this story.  IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE 
FURTHER.  Also, if you are offended by consensual adults 
enriching their lives through harmless mental fantasies, or 
if you have a religious / moral / anti-pornography agenda, 
please go away.  Many people who are worthy pillars of your 
community enjoy complex and fulfilling fantasies that you 
will never understand, so do not be so arrogant as to judge 
them against your strait-laced existence.  You have been 
thoroughly warned.  This is heavy stuff.

=============< An insight from the author >================
This fantasy started ten years ago as a collection of short 
stories.  It is being pieced together and re-edited in what 
can only be described as a long process.  The author is a 
very sane, kind hearted person who does not believe anybody 
deserves the fantastical fates in this story - if you 
haven't guessed already, in his fantasies he would enjoy 
changing places with Linda or her friends....


        Within days of the King's death and her coronation, the 
ruling Princess of Steel heard rumours of Sorceress 
Zorelle's return from forced exile.  The Princess knew that 
the evil Zorelle had been exiled for dabbling in the 
forbidden magics; the cruel woman had used her time away 
effectively, learning the full extent of her 
one had followed the dark path and survived before.  
Informants told the Princess that Zorelle was using her new 
spells to create an army of mindless followers....completely 
unstoppable.  It was obvious that her aim was to seize total 
control of the land and its people.  One by one she was 
capturing her enemies and dealing with them in a terrible 
fashion.  Only Zorelle's wicked mind was capable inflicting 
such suffering on the land.

Dangerous battlefields

        A very tired Princess Linda Danvers used her super 
powers to hover in mid air and scan the massive enemy army 
many miles below.  The hostile force was made up mostly of 
forced conscripts, ordinary citizens who had been captured 
and clad in the glistening black leather bondage suits that 
all in the enchanted army wore.  The magical punishingly 
buckled costumes took merely five minutes to convert a 
struggling captive into a docile obedient soldier who would 
follow Zorelle's mental commands without question.  Once 
controlled by the suit, they would walk happily into certain 
death for the evil spellstress, smiling beneath their 
expanded gags, and even help to force dress more conscripts.  
Half of the squeaking, suctioned forms had once been in 
Linda's own army, but were now "prisoners of war" in every 
sense.  Zorelle had made some of the conscripts into winged 
rubber scouts, imprisoning their arms and legs together in a 
single tube of frictionless black latex so that all but the 
round circle of their faces was visible.  She attached 
dragon-like rubbery wings to their corsetted backs and 
controlled them remotely so that the stiffly encapsulated 
scouts flew obediently over what had once been their own 
army.  Everything these flapping rubber targets in the sky 
saw, Zorelle saw through her magic.

        From her vantage point in the clouds, Linda spied a 
figure in the Sorceress's colours of gold and silver 
standing in front of a very well-appointed tent.  Borne by 
desperation and hoping to catch Zorelle by surprise, the 
Woman of Steel flew down in a split second and appeared 
beside her enemy.  Knowing that she could not allow the 
witch to try an escape or attack spell, she enveloped 
Zorelle's mouth with hers, grasped the spell-weaving hands 
and began to utilise her super-strength to crush them.   
There was a brilliant flash, and the form she was holding 
seemed to collapse into itself.  It was a decoy.  What she 
imagined was Zorelle had evaporated into a harness of 
glowing green straps....kryptonite!  Her first thought was 
to flee, but the nightmare harness seemed stuck to her 
wrists and face already, neatly circling her forearms with 
wide cuffs and sliding between her lips to insert a glowing 
green expando-gag in her mouth.  She fought against it 
feebly with her rapidly draining strength to no avail.  The 
myriad of remaining straps on the harness encircled her body 
like snakes and threaded themselves through the buckles as 
Linda sank gasping to her knees.  They tightened themselves 
mercilessly and Linda was soon neatly packaged, a powerless 
super-bundle.  A layer of the cuffs peeled away and rolled 
down over her hands, forming slim D-ringed mittens, 
canceling any hopes she had of using her fingers to undo a 
buckle or two.  Likewise, her ankle cuffs peeled down over 
her high-heeled blue feet forming slippery D-ringed booties 
of deadly green.  Not to be outdone, the straps began 
unfolding rapidly, doubling in width and joining each time 
until eventually Supergirl was cocooned seamlessly from the 
neck down in polished greeny black.  She rolled to the 
ground in a weakened, dizzy state as her collar folded up to 
cover her chin, then covering her mouth, nose, eyes with a 
clear layer which thickened rapidly.  The real Zorelle's 
black boots came into her dwindling field of vision, and in 
her hallucination-affected vision, Linda briefly imagined 
that she could see the forlorn blank faces of her recently 
lost officers staring out at her from the surface of the 
shiny black rubber boot leg....was that the mound of a 
miniature coated breast?....the curve of a torturously bent 
elbow she could see through the green haze?  No, she 
decided, trying to  clear her swimming head....her mind must 
be playing tricks.  She lapsed into blissful 


The victory tent

A captured male officer was marched to stand in front of the 
  "It looks very much like you chose the wrong side, young 
man" she laughed, pointing out the rubber baby costumed 
form of his former leader and princess sitting docily in the 
corner.  In stark contrast to the way he remembered his 
strong commander a few hours ago, Supergirl was now strapped 
in a high chair and sucking purposefully on a magical 
pacifier.  The all enclosing latex-kryptonite babysuit she 
was sheathed in was designed in attractive transparent 
green.  Her hands and feet terminated in stiff frilled 
mittens and booties, and from the frills around her neck 
hung a sparkling rubber bib ready to catch the slightest 
dribble.  A tight airless hood with a mockery of a baby-face 
fashioned on it stretched up to cover her head from the suit 
at her neck, and was crowned with a ludicrous little bonnet.  
It appeared she could not stop sucking the pacifier, which 
was unfortunate because it was connected to the large tank 
of brilliant green fluid strapped to the back of her high 
chair.  Kryptonite laced water!

The young man gave a stricken cry, and even managed to take 
a step towards his queen, struggling against the powerful 
spell holding him in place.
        "Don't bother.....there is nothing you can do to help 
her." Laughed Zorelle, fingering a small rubber purse on 
the table beside her.
        "She should think herself lucky - I was going to make 
a superheroine pussy purse out of her once she was 
rubberised.  I would have enjoyed watching her pussy zip 
shut and her body collapse - quite distressingly! - into 
that lovely pouch shape, but I realised it would be much 
more fun to string out her punishment."
        She zipped open and fingered the tiny sample latex 
purse, watching the defenseless latex clitoris spring to 
life even though its owner had long since been turned into 
rubber lining.  She waved it at the shaking man.
        "You would look very nice as one of these".  A look 
of horror crossed his face as a zip sealed vagina appeared 
where his sex had been moments before.
        "But no, not today.  I promised myself I'd only make 
clothing trophies on Wednesdays.  Consider yourself lucky - 
soon you'll be just another doll to blend into my 
collection!  Come!  Join your friends".
        Zorelle waved her hand flippantly and in a process her 
staff had seen many times, the officer transformed painfully 
into an abundantly endowed nude female form.  Uselessly 
straining for control of her limbs, the very feminine buxom 
trophy marched like a stiff marionette to a bench near the 
side of the room and lay back on the shiny red vinyl 
surface.  A mist formed around the officer's body as she 
arched in pain.  A short cry escaped her lips, followed by a 
liquid hiss, then total silence.  The air cleared to reveal 
her unaccustomed feminine curves coated completely in glossy 
black rubber.  The sightless effigy wriggled in an effort to 
escape her new costume now that a spell was not controlling 
her movements but it was pointless.  Not only did her 
rigidly boned vlatex (a special blend of Vinyl and Latex) 
layer keep her stretched flat on the bench, but she could 
not even push herself off the bench with the towering heels 
permanently bonded to her booted feet.  Zorelle placed her 
hands on the black clad form and concentrated a little, 
casting the spell to shrink it into a tiny quivering doll in 
her fist.  She bent down and pressed the little doll against 
the polished yet strangely lumpy smoothness of her right 
boot and the toy sank beneath the surface like it was being 
swallowed in a bog....its arms and feet sank first, followed 
by hips and shoulders....soon just one knee of the doll and 
its face to the cheeks protruded along with the tip of a 
breast.  Zorelle stopped pushing.  Her latest boot addition 
stared somewhat beseechingly at the world, its 
expressionless vlatex face framed by the glistening sea of 
rubber that was its prison for all eternity.  As if 
disturbed by the arrival of a new resident, the most recent 
of the other trapped forms in the dark Queen's boots rippled 
slightly as they sought escape from the magical coating that 
would hold them forever.  The bulk of the "residents" 
merely lay still, for they had long ago worked out the 
futility of struggling.  Indeed, some had struggled 
themselves beneath the surface because the enchantment 
worked in one direction only.  The evil woman always enjoyed 
watching their tiny encapsulated bodies struggle as she 
pushed them into their new rubbery home in her footwear.  
Hmmmm....Zorelle thought to herself.  When the enemy army 
surrendered soon, she would have enough unwilling victims to 
make a matching catsuit or two.  It would be nice to arrange 
some of the figures as shoulder pads.  She mused over making 
a half dozen different catsuit styles for a moment as she 
absently brushed her fingers around two slight cherry bumps 
protruding from the boot at her left thigh.  She had long 
since forgotten who they belonged to, but they were the only 
remaining signs of a captured colonel.  It was no longer 
possible to identify him much less rescue him - she had 
endowed him with massive breasts before turning him into the 
doll and embedding him until only his nipples remained.  His 
two female aides had been made into chesty little rubber 
Barbie dolls and set face-to-crotch inside a dildo shaped 
sheath that was currently a feature of the pussy-stimulation 
unit wriggling away tirelessly between Supergirl's babified 

        Linda squirmed weakly against the buckled straps 
holding her in her highchair.  Her barbie-doll vibrator was 
awash with lubricant and her translucent rubber costume 
gripped every inch of skin, causing undeniably erotic 
sensations.  The spell she was under kept her sucking 
noisily on her pacifier and she was unable to stem the flow 
at all by squeezing her lips together.  It was as though she 
really did have a spraying nipple between her teeth.  She 
knew that her forced infantization was a deliberate 
reduction of her rank and she could not avoid being reduced 
to a mere toy.  Through the velvety, transparent latex mask 
she watched as the shape of another of her officers appeared 
and was swiftly coated.  Was this their reward for being 
loyal to her?  Somehow she would save them and exact her 
revenge, but it depended on her survival....right now she 
could think of no plan at all.  An out-of-focus Zorelle 
loomed in her green tinged vision to gloat over her prize 
catch.  She adjusted Linda's stimulation unit so it sat 
deeper in her pussy and cupped the glossy breasts until the 
princess came again with a slurp.
        "See snugglepot - trying to hold back makes no 
difference.  Come on, say goo goo ga ga for Mommy.  It's 
time to get you ready for the big parade".  She unbuckled 
Linda from the chair and watched the girl slide like liquid 
to the floor.
        "I have a very special daiper for you to model 
today." said Zorelle as she produced a strange voluminous 
latex daiper and proceeded to glide its frilled mass up the 
captive's gleaming legs.
        "It used to be one of your officers too - I'll bet he 
never thought he would be this close to your pussy!".
        The feminine daiper consisted of many puffed and 
stretched layers of polished latex, crafted in the same 
iridescent blue colour her Supergirl costume had been, and 
it had her large "super" logo stretched across the 
generous padded bottom.  The cool rubber slid into place, 
covering her sex and enveloping her from thighs to hip in a 
tingling embrace.  The tightening of an attached smooth 
latex buckle belt at the waist and two more around her upper 
thighs ensured that no leakages could occur from the sealed 
daiper.  Zorelle attached a leash to Supergirl's posture 
collar and dragged her along the expensively carpeted floor 
of the tent, forcing her to crawl along behind on all fours 
because she had no energy to stand.  As they left the tent, 
Linda felt a sudden huge pressure on her bladder and her 
green-shrouded face reddened with shame as her muscles 
involuntarily released control.  The warm fluid flowed from 
her groin for over a minute, and filled her squeaking 
daipers to bursting point.  A faint sloshing sound could be 
heard as the babified princess crawled behind her captor, 
who was marching her through the appreciative ranks of her 
army.  In front of the massed forces were the huge city 
gates, already shattered and ready for the invasion of the 
city.  All pockets of defenders had been overrun days ago.  
Striding through the gates, her metal heels strinking sparks 
on the cobblestones, the evil queen led the procession into 
the heart of the city, dragging her unwilling infantized 
display piece behind her with its bulging <S> gleaming 
across tautly stretched buttocks.  The loyal citizens sobbed 
in fear when they recognized the super symbol and the 
identity of the adult rubber baby being paraded past their 
homes and down the streets to the castle.  Supergirl's 
public humiliation had begun and the morale of her people 
was broken. 


Five days the throne room of the royal castle a 
shackled heroine, dressed once again in her Supergirl 
costume, stands before a haughty sorceress queen:

        At Zorelle's magical coercion, the heroine in distress 
jerked like a puppet involuntarily forward with a jingle of 
her chains.  Thankfully Princess Linda no longer wore her 
strength-sapping green babysuit; in another room an 
unidentified rubber woman was being forced to keep that 
discarded outfit warm in a high chair bolted to the bottom 
of a large aquarium full of gradually hardening and 
pressurised clear latex.  Linda had been cleaned up and her 
new lycra Supergirl costume gleamed uncharacteristically in 
the torchlight, for it was not lycra at all - it had been 
changed into a parody of shiny red and blue buckled vlatex, 
notched to its tightest settings for good measure.  In new 
subtle ways the Sorceress was emphasising how much power she 
had over the woman of steel.  Linda had spent the last few 
days wearing a full body version of her latex daiper which 
sealed at the throat, wrists and ankles.  The gallons of 
Kryptonite spiked water they had been making her drink had 
soon filled it to bursting point as she lay in her special 
adult crib.  The green mineral had invaded every cell of the 
Princess's body and sapped her strength disastrously, so she 
could do nothing but be a fetish marionette for the moment.  
Zorelle clawed the air in front of her and Supergirl's 
barely-worn vlatex super costume was torn from her by 
invisible hands.  The evil woman murmured a single word and 
the nude girl was instantly clothed again, this time as a 
military issue concubine.  The full-length catsuit was made 
of black patent leather, doubly stitched for strength, 
joined to a tight chrome collar at the neck, and to closely 
fitting chrome manacles at both her wrists and ankles.  The 
skin-tight outfit had openings for her pert breasts, which 
easily defied the light gravity, and a thin slot between her 
legs which opened to a mass of blonde pubic hair when she 
parted her legs.  The suit glowed with minute quantities of 
kryptonite powder, enough to render the girl powerless 
against bonds that she would ordinarily laugh at, and the 
boning from the corset-like waist of the catsuit were made 
from a cage of Kryptonite fibres embedded between the layers 
of leather.  The evil queen was emphasising her control 
again.  The suit did not have any zips or lacings, and 
appeared to have been sprayed even if she had a 
little energy, Supergirl could not entertain the thought of 
struggling free of the humiliating costume - she would 
require cutting tools and help.  She fell to her hands and 
knees and a jeweled posture collar was slotted around her 
throat along with a leash.  Zorelle slid her fingers over 
the taut costume of her deliciously helpless new pet.
        "Maids!  I want our captive to spend the night wrapped 
in a krypton-plaster cast - over the top of her new costume, 
of course!  Oh! - make sure you leave her breasts free of 
the plaster - I will be along later to connect her up to the 
milking machine."  She ruffled the hair of her leashed 
captive heroine.
        "I have sooo many experiments for you to try my 
dangerous little pet - I'm sure I can relieve you of that 
super strength when I've worked out how to transfer it to my 

The wine cellar

The maids dragged their weakly resisting charge away to 
begin wrapping her in her full body cast for the night.  
Humming happily to herself, Zorelle headed down to her wine 
cellar to choose something fruity to go with the evening's 
meal.  As expected of an evil dictatoress, her cellar was 
huge, with hundreds of barrels of surprising, exquisite 
liquor stretching away into the cool darkness.  But the 
quantity wasn't the surprising part.  Each barrel contained 
the armless and legless torso of a rubberised woman, stasis-
spelled and pressurised into complete immobility.  The 
entombed females were nursing the precious fluid surrounding 
their warm vlatex bodies to maturity - a process which could 
take hundreds of years.  The only visible part of these 
silent helpers was a rigid, glossy rubber face protruding 
from the sealed rubber end of each barrel, heads bent 
achingly back so they looked straight ahead as the barrels 
lay naturally on their sides.  The barrel girl's eyes were 
permanently bonded into widely fixed stares - the whites of 
their eyes contrasting dramatically against their glossy 
black vlatex faces.  Row after row of beseeching eyes could 
be seen dotting the wall of neatly stacked barrels that 
stretched away into the darkness.  Some of the older barrel 
girls had been lucky enough to retain their own lips, albeit 
rubber coated and heavily gagged, for they had a tap below 
the point where their chin would have been from where the 
wine could be sampled.  Zorelle had soon tired of this, and 
found it more aesthetically pleasing to have a tap 
protruding directly from the rubber lips and to modify the 
internal plumbing.  Having eyes fixed wide open could be 
quite traumatic for newly converted barrel girls, for over 
the months and years they saw many cellar rats crawling 
between the barrels, and often had large spiders making 
their webs over their rubber faces.  Zorelle had been 
collecting and barreling vintages since her first year of 
exile, making up the contents with enemies and agents who 
had been sent to keep an eye on her.  Each spy had no choice 
but to continue her watching job, but from the discomfort of 
her own personal barrel now.  Zorelle didn't care much who 
she barreled these days, but she had added some fun to the 
process.  Often she would just seize the first person who 
happened by, sheath and change him/her into a high-heeled, 
armless vlatex doll, and make her stomp her own grapes 
before converting her into a new addition to the cellar.  
Zorelle made a gift of five barrel girls to her new senior 
minister Lord Eccles, one of whom was his freshly tap-
mouthed ex-wife.  Eccles graciously accepted the gift and 
placed them on stands in his entertaining room where they 
could be the subjects of interest and humiliation by guests.  
His current wife Belle took an instant dislike to the pretty 
rubber faces with their darting eyes and gave such a tantrum 
when she found out who the pink beribboned barrel contained 
that Eccles finally gave in to her smug demands.  He called 
in a fem-service unit, and had it seal over the barrel 
girl's faces with an extra flat layer of vlatex so as to 
render them forever blind and smoothly expressionless.  
Belle gloated on her control of her man as she slid her 
fingers over the polished hard rubbery curves of the face of 
the woman she had replaced a few years ago.  She had won 
again.  Little did she know, but in six months time she 
would give her last ever tantrum.  It was a silly yet common 
incident where she demanded that her Lord stop seeing his 
brother because she was jealous of his wife's sense of 
humour and the next day she found herself sheathed in 
armless vlatex, tap-mouthed in readiness and walking her six 
inch booted feet in a circle through the grapes she would 
accompany in her barrel.  As a barrel girl, Belle was 
labeled clearly and given pride of place in the entertaining 
room for a few weeks before her face was sealed over just as 
she had ordered done to her compatriots nearby.
        Queen Zorelle always found it difficult to choose a 
vintage, but settled on the barrel that contained the first 
boyfriend who had dumped her.  She waved at a shapely drink-
maid who scurried over and connected her rubber mouth flange 
to the end of the tap protruding from his feminine glossy 
pouting lips.  There was a brief hiss of escaping air as the 
seal was made good and Zorelle turned the tap, allowing dark 
red wine to flow steadily into the drink maid's breast 
tanks, expanding her rubber bosom to massive proportions.  
The evil queen toyed with the idea of giving the drink maids 
their arms back so she wouldn't have to do the menial task 
of connecting the seals herself, but no, she enjoyed the 
look of horror on the faces of both unwilling participants 
too much.  The drink maids always panicked when their 
breasts expanded so much that they thought they would burst 
or fall over - walking was difficult enough already on their 
ballet booted rubber legs without litres of wine to carry - 
and the barrel girls were horrified too, because they all 
knew that the amount of retained humanity was directly 
proportional to the amount of wine they nursed inside their 
rubber forms, almost as if their intelligence was stored in 
the wine itself.  And so it was.  With each glass, the best 
of their thoughts and knowledge were being transferred 
forever to Zorelle's ever expanding mind.   Empty or near-
empty barrel girls watched the world with vacant stares and 
no recollection of who they once had been.  Zorelle had all 
their memories, and even used this information to seize and 
barrel whole groups of friends.

Linda the spectator.

        Queen Zorelle, leader of the victorious army ran her 
sleek gloved hand over the hardened plaster figure of 
Princess Linda, set on all fours with her enhanced, heavy 
breasts swallowed by the vacuum milking cups of the Auto-
Milk machine.  By casting a strong motherhood spell, Zorelle 
had extracted hundreds of litres of super milk from Linda's 
enchanted bust and quite enjoyed it on her breakfast each 
morning.  She pointed at the white figure.
        "Okay, I want our princess to be able to see what's 
going on again.  Cut her out and put her in slave girl 
restraint.....with the usual trimmings of course so she 
can't move."
  Linda was cut out of her plaster layer and concubine 
catsuit with a diamond saw, and struggled into a similar 
tight fitting leather jumpsuit-like outfit that had been 
dampened in preparation for the dressing.  The black one-
piece garment had ridiculously long straight jacket sleeves 
and was so snug a fit that she could barely move.  It had a 
high, restrictive buckling collar and an attached kidskin 
facial hood that was so tight that you could perhaps tell 
who she was beneath it.  Embedded in the suit at the groin 
were two dildos pointing inward;  one large one which was 
slid up her cunt, and another smaller one which was pushed 
up her rear.  Both dildos were hollow, which allowed her to 
answer the calls of nature when she needed to, but they 
could also be unscrewed from their position and replaced 
with any of the torture devices the evil sorcoress had 
developed for those openings.
        The moist straight jacket was securely laced up the 
back with steel wire from the small of her back to the top 
of her head by a specially designed binding machine and 
welded together, leaving poor Linda struggling for breath, 
her head hidden beneath the amorphous mask.  Both of her 
hands were laced tightly into the mittened sleeves of the 
garment; one ended in a buckle, and the other, a strap.  Two 
female guards took hold of her leather enclosed arms, 
wrapped them snugly around her body so that she was tightly 
hugging herself, and buckled them firmly in position against 
her torso.  Her buckled cradling arms lifted her compressed 
bosom so that the suit clearly showed imprints of her 
nipples in the fabric.
        Next came a pair of wet, thigh length leather boots 
raised on six-inch stiletto heels.  They were laced up so 
snugly that she could not bend her knees at all.
        "Lock her in the drying room" ordered Zorelle.
The drying room was a large padded cell with a huge fan at 
one end blowing hot air through it.  No matter where a 
person was in the room, their clothes would be dried by the 
fan.  After a short while in there, Linda's garment began to 
shrink and stiffen as it dried.

        When the room was opened up the next morning.  Linda 
lay gasping for water, on the floor in her new rock hard 
leather skin.  She could now be left in the suit 
indefinitely, and there was absolutely no possibility of 
escape from it without help.
        After giving her a great deal of water to drink, a 
guard snapped a collar and leash around the leather coated 
princess' throat and pulled her roughly to her feet.  
Hobbling along as best as she was able in very tiny steps, 
she was led back into the main anteroom where Queen Zorelle 
sat.  The captive princess' stiffened leather sheathed legs 
were lowered down into two holes in the floor facing the 
throne.  Her feet were locked in place from beneath the 
floor so that she remained fixed with her waist at floor 
level.  To an observer it would appear as though she had no 
legs at all.  Laces were released to expose her face, and a 
harness of straps and hooks was placed over her head which 
pulled apart her upper and lower jaws to keep her mouth open 
wide, rendering intelligible speech impossible.

        Zorelle clicked her fingers and Linda's friend Cynthia 
was brought out.  She had been stripped of her leather 
hobble sheath gown they originally dressed her in and shaved 
from scalp to toe.  With her hands converted into useless 
appendages by tight leather mittens, Cynthia had been 
teetering from one mind-numbing punishment to another for 
the last month.  She stood struggling between two guards, 
her lips protruding unnaturally over the large red ball gag 
she had in her mouth, the straps for which dug deeply into 
her cheeks.  The gag and straps were part of a modified 
horses bridle that she had strapped around her head, which 
had the added effect of sealing her deeply packed ears from 
the outside world.  Another array of snug straps around her 
hips and lower torso held a similar-sized red ball wedged up 
her pussy.
        The dark queen turned to Linda, "I am so used to having 
her around, I have decided to make Cynthia a permanent 
fixture, to serve me here as a piece of practical art.  She 
will become a living mannequin to join the others already 
being used by my seamstresses in the bondage clothing 
workshops.  She could survive up to ten or fifteen years 
once painted with our special lacquer.  The meticulously 
tested formula cannot be removed once applied - it's 
permanent" laughed Zorelle. She picked up a large heavy tin 
and a brush.  "Let's begin shall we?"
        Chains and metal cuffs were locked on Cynthia's hands 
and feet.  The chains pulled taut so that she was raised 
upright above the ground in a spread-eagled position.  
Stepping forward, Zorelle dipped her brush in the glutinous 
liquid, and began liberally painting all over Cynthia's 
trembling body, with the exception of her sex.  The lacquer 
dried very quickly, and Cynthia's struggles became less 
effective as her skin began to harden and appear glassy.  
Zorelle painted Cynthia's face and smooth hairless head too, 
her buttock-length black hair many days gone.  Even the poor 
girl's eyelids were lacquered rigidly and permanently open, 
her eyes magically modified as an afterthought to retain a 
the wide stare of a frightened animal.  When Cynthia was 
immobillised, the shackles and harnessing straps had to be 
removed so that the areas they covered could be painted 
also.  With sucking noises, the two red balls were extracted 
from her, one from her puckered mouth and one from her 
pussy.  She stood there stiffly like a scarecrow, with her 
legs and arms widely outstretched while the evil queen 
painted her some more.
        Linda watched from her position in the floor in 
powerless horror as her friend became a glistening hardened 
statue.  Even though the coated girl was obviously never 
going to move again, Zorelle continued to apply coats of 
lacquer to her captive until the large tin was empty.
        The dressmaker's dummy that was once Cynthia had an 
open circular mouth through which a feeding tube of life 
giving soft food and nutrients would be inserted once a day.  
She could not speak because her tongue and voice box had 
been swiftly removed when she was first captured, but her 
breathing was ragged as if she was trying to warn Linda of 
her fate in Zorelle's hands.  The sorcoress demonstrated how 
tubes could be inserted between Cynthia's legs to collect 
her waste products and even force fed back into her using 
small pumps if she had to be punished....not that she could 
possibly disobey anything now - but Zorelle would think of 
something.  The only movement possible in the lacquer doll 
was a pair of tearful eyes, forever open and moving and 
watching.  She was propped up against a wall behind the 
throne with all tubes connected in place.
        "Oh, don't worry, Cynthia dear....after a few weeks as 
a mannequin you'll really start to believe you are 
one....and after a month or two you'll have trouble 
remembering your own name.....most of my dummies can't even 
remember they had names at all!  Believe me, there is no 
return from *that* state, my pretty one."
        "I once lacquered a *very* pretty explosives 
scientist, but after three months the lacquer broke down and 
I thought she would need an immediate re-coat.  Not so!  She 
was already long gone into mannequin-land.  She really 
thought she was one - didn't move, couldn't remember how to 
talk properly or even think straight.  I had to dip her in 
flexy stiff vinyl to make her look and feel like a dolly 
again just like she wanted.  She actually begged me to!"

  Since the cost of supplying feed to all 'tubed' captives 
added up, Zorelle usually cast a stasis spell on them, 
especially after the novelty of feeding them their own waste 
products wore off.  The Cynthia doll was so modified three 
months later.  This meant that she could not die from 
starvation or any other ailment such as lack of oxygen as 
long as she was being sustained magically.  Much later, when 
Zorelle grew tired of playing with her rigid life-sized 
doll, she slid her down on the top of a short pole on an 
ornate stand and fixed her in position.  This made her into 
a more conventional mannequin, raised with just the tips of 
her toes touching her pedestal.  Cynthia was used as an 
experimental bondage mannequin for a few years until the 
factory had a big cleanout, and she was moved into warehouse 
storage along with a half-dozen other dolls who had shared 
her original fate.  The Cynthia doll disappeared unnoticed 
one night, no doubt smuggled home by a lonely night watchman 
to brighten up his decor.  Not that she cared who owned her 
anymore - she had long ago pushed the painfully happy 
memories of her past life from her mind and rollercoasted 
into a nicely maintainable empty-headed role.  As long as 
she was kept on her lovely stand, Cynthia was content.  
Perhaps one day somebody would come to rescue her, but 
perhaps if she made an effort to stare blankly they would 
leave her be.  Time would tell.

        The next one of Linda's friends to be led out in front 
of her was Joanna, also naked.  Joanna prided herself on her 
muscular physique and had been a runner for Supergirl's 
messages during the war.
        "Ah Joanna....put her in one of our new inflatable 
rubber suits, ready to be pressurised" ordered Zorelle.
        After a brief dressing struggle Joanna was wearing the 
strange bulky black garment, enveloping her completely from 
head to toe with all the sealing zips locked closed.  Her 
only links to the outside world were small breathing tubes 
in her nostrils, and the much larger ones forced into her 
mouth, cunt and rear.  Once the enveloping costume was 
inflated, these tubes were designed to keep her body 
supplied with the minimum of life-giving essentials whilst 
removing any wastes she produced.  The wearer could be 
enclosed indefinitely without need for removal.
        Zorelle screwed a hose onto the valve at the very top 
of Joanna's suit and with a little hiss of escaping gas, 
connected the other end of it to a nozzle on the wall.  She 
turned on a tap and the pressure suit began to fill and 
expand steadily.  But not with air.  The substance that was 
inflating it was heavy, plainly a kind of paste.  The 
rubber-sheathed creature was dragged like a giant bloated 
slug down onto the floor under the extra weight.  Joanna's 
arms were inexorably lifted out, away from her body as the 
pressure of the swollen suit gradually overcame her 
strength.  Linda's worst suspicions were confirmed when a 
helper moved revealing a label on the pipe reading "Q.D.P."
        "Yes, that's right, Joanna is to become one of my 
statues also, my dear" gloated Zorelle as she followed 
Linda's gaze.  "A plaster one this time though.  Once the 
suit has been completely inflated, Joanna will be compressed 
and immobilised inside.  This Quick Drying Plaster should 
set in about ten minutes, and it will swell as it dries, 
compressing her with the pressure.  The plaster also 
generates quite a lot of heat as it sets, which I am sure 
will be unpleasant for Joanna with the hot tight rubber 
against her skin."
        When the suit had completely ballooned out, it become 
so heavy that it took four guards to lift the swollen 
captive to her feet and hold her in a standing position.  By 
the time the pressure in the drum-stretched suit had reached 
90 PSI according to the pressure gauge on the pipe, all 
movement from the girl within had ceased.  The guards 
wobbled the sides of the suit to consolidate any tiny air 
bubbles and make them boil back up the filling tube, topped 
it up one final time and screw-capped the valve closed.
        Zorelle waited patiently for fifteen minutes while the 
rubber and plaster encased girl hardened.  She cut away the 
outer rubber layer to reveal a bulbous white plaster statue 
beneath.  It had no features save several tubes that were 
hanging from the face and groin.  The guards were instructed 
to carve a likeness of Joanna's face on the head of the new 
plaster dummy and to dress it in fat rubber imitations of 
the clothes that Joanna was wearing when she was captured, 
including a rubber evening gown, rubber petticoat, rubber 
corset, and high heeled rubber lace-up boots.  The dummy's 
shoed feet were set into a heavy plaster pedestal to prevent 
it from toppling over and then the dummy containing Joanna 
was slid over to rest beside the stiff lacquer mannequin and 
had its tubes connected to the pumps.

Zorelle laughed as she ran her hand down the back of the 
smooth white plaster head.
        "Ooh! Your running legs are so much more attractive!  
Got any messages for me now?".  She put her ear to the 
mouth region of the silent statue as if listening for a 
voice.  "Don't fret gorgeous, since you can't see, hear or 
speak, you'll have even less time than the Cynthia mannequin 
to enjoy your old identity.  Your mind will automatically 
adjust to the situation - trust me, it always happens that 
way.  In no time at all you'll believe you always were a 
plaster and latex mannequin.  The most joyous part of your 
new life will be the feeding times, regardless of what we 
decide to pump in.  That's if I don't cast the stasis spell 
on all of you statues to save myself the trouble."

        Linda tried to find a weak spot in her confinement but 
as she expected, there were none.  Zorelle was neutralising 
her enemies as quickly as she could, and Supergirl was 
unable to save any of them, at least not yet.  The evil 
sorcoress had a complex about being overpowered in her sleep 
because it was then that magi were most vulnerable.  She 
made an effort to ensure all non-believers were safely 
packaged....even a sorcoress liked a good night's sleep.

===============< A note from your sponsor >================
If you disagree with your child's choice of partner on the 
basis of race, religion, wealth, or anything else other than 
the worth of the person, then you are ignorant and wrong.  
Give your kids a little more credit.  Okay, now back to the 

        Another former messenger, Lisa, was brought in and 
fastened to the vertical rack.  She was freshly hairless, 
and looked relieved at being released from whatever 
punishment she had been receiving.  Her relief did not last 
long.  Breathing tubes were placed in her nostrils, and a 
food tube sealed to her lips.  Waste disposal tubes were 
inserted into her lower body in the same way the others had 
been.  Once prepared, the guards proceeded to wrap every 
limb on her body tightly in rolls of slimy plaster 
impregnated gauze, the kind used to mend broken bones.  But 
Lisa had no broken bones.  Before long, she was encased from 
head to toe in a catsuit-like thin plaster body cast, which 
hampered any attempt at bending her limbs to any great 
degree.  Her hands were balled into tight slimy white fists 
that were going to be of no use to her.  While the plaster 
was still wet, Lisa was released from the rack, completely 
encased in seamless white.  Her slippery form with the 
protruding tubes slithered helplessly to the floor, trying 
to crawl on her hands and knees, completely disoriented by 
being unable to see or hear.  Since the plaster was still 
freshly applied, she could still move in a limited fashion, 
but to no avail.  This was not to be the extent of her 
confinement.  The guards lifted Lisa to her feet again and 
held her already stiffening straight arms at her sides, 
pulling her legs together as though standing to attention.  
They attached the start of a large roll of the gauze to the 
back of her head and wrapped her from head to toe again, 
effectively mummifiying her.  Her static plaster form was 
laid down on its back and left to dry until completely hard.  
During that time, the movements from within became less and 
less as the stiff wrappings shrank considerably.  This made 
her fully wrapped body so narrow that Linda imagined that 
her friend could not have fitted inside it at all.  Zorelle 
assured the captive princess that her friend was still quite 
alive by amplifying the sounds of her breathing for a 
moment.  The plaster mummy was painted in an exquisite 
Egyptian style and placed under glass in the Royal Museum 
along with the rest of the historical Egyptian exhibit.  Her 
feed tubes were connected out of sight of the patrons who 
would shuffle by day after day, remarking on the timeless 
beauty of the rigid painted mummy.

        Back in the throne room, a serving girl teetered over 
to Zorelle with the queen's afternoon coffee on a tray.  The 
girl wore a completely clear plastic ballet boot costume 
that was laced from her toes to her nose, and special 
additions ensured she keep her tightly stretched clothing 
on.  Through the clear plastic covering the servant's mouth 
it could be seen that her lips and tongue had surgical 
eyelets added to them and were laced neatly together, 
sealing them closed.  Her mouth and doglike tongue were 
tightly laced against and through the clear plastic.  She 
wasn't planning to speak out of place anytime soon.  A 
little ribbon with "Tammy" written on it hung from each 
plastic sheathed nipple.  In a disastrous attempt to please 
her new employer the girl hurried a little, catching her 
heel on the edge of a rug and spilling a single drop of hot 
coffee on Zorelle.  The evil queen exploded with rage and 
grabbed the clumsy girl's hobbling chain and anchored it to 
the floor.  Zorelle produced a little vial marked 
"plasticiser" from her potions bag and dipped a tiny pin 
in it.  The serving maid's eyes widened and she trembled 
visibly with fear.
        "Hold still dear.....this won't hurt a bit" she said 
as she pricked the tethered serving girl on the cheek, 
ending a half-hearted attempt to avoid it.  The most 
immediate change was that Tammy stopped moving the instant 
she was jabbed.  After a moment a shine crept down the 
girl's cheek as her skin and flesh became translucent, 
changing into some kind of artificial substance...seemingly 
a kind of plastic.  Her head went misty and in moments had 
turned completely clear as the effect travelled down her 
neck.  Her lithe shoulders and breasts hardened and became 
clear too as the change worked more rapidly.  All tammy 
could do was stand there as the plastic grew downwards, 
flowing down her flat stomach like water and making her legs 
crystal clear.  Just as the plastic reached her toes Tammy 
felt a rush of panic and then nothing, as all thoughts left 
her forever.  Zorelle quickly pressed the statue's palms 
together in front of her as though in prayer and pushed it 
to a crouch.  It had taken just a few seconds to transform 
clumsy serving girl Tammy into erotic plastic towel rack 
Tammy.  Zorelle ordered the new furniture to be placed in 
the servant's showers.

        Of course, plastic Tammy had a trainer, Rosemary, who 
was ultimately responsible for the actions of her serving 
girls.  Rosemary soon found herself with her feet epoxied to 
the marble floor in the corner of the throne room.  Nozzles 
and melting tanks were set up around her at all angles she 
was sprayed with a continuous fine mist of bronze vlatex.  
She tried to scrape it off but it cured almost the instant 
it touched her skin.  The sticky film could not be avoided 
no matter which way she twisted.  For many hours, coat after 
rubber coat was applied to her and glossed according to the 
evil sorcoress's instructions.  That evening Zorelle checked 
on what she planned to call her "rubber statue corner".  
She found a finely polished vlatex creature struggling 
fruitlessly against her new rigid rubbery sheath.  
Rosemary's hands had bonded to her hips where she first 
tried to brush off the coating and the vlatex-coated floor 
was now her pedestal.  If she hadn't had a stasis spell cast 
on her she would long since have suffocated because her 
nose, mouth and head had been sealed over completely.
        "Since you can't train your own staff how to serve 
properly, perhaps you can teach yourself how to be a bronze 
rubber statue" snarled Zorelle, giving the quivering statue 
an exploratory push.  As expected, the feminine rubber form 
toppled backwards a little before juddering upright again.  
This captive wasn't going anywhere soon either.  The 
glistening bronze lips seemed to be trying to mouth words, 
but not a sound emerged from the airless voice box.  The 
spray had hit so fast that even Rosemary's eyeballs had been 
coated while her eyelids were wide open in shock.  Her 
sightless stare would last an eternity.

================< A note from your author >=================
Are there any half decent artists out there who would like 
to try and create illustrations for this story?  Can anyone 
offer web space and time to look after the images?
Intelligent comments and story ideas welcome, but note that 
Fast does not have time to email copies of stories to 

All feedback via

...another 70% of the story to come.
Feedback please via 

+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| | |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:>    .../assm/faq.html> /