A Woman's Role

Ch.3 The Shop, the Dungeon, and the Dollhouse

"Thank you, Mistress Lisa," said Samantha with a blush and a hint of embarrassment.

Something about being back in her own clothes, with her hair and makeup flawlessly reapplied by Carol, made her instinctively start putting on appearances again. A sense of guilt came back to her, as she came back to herself. Guilt at having been so out of control, so sexually desperate, and so subservient…in what could be called public, no less.

"You behaved very well, Samantha," said Mistress Lisa, a knowing smirk teasing the corners of her mouth, "especially for a first-timer. I bet you didn't know you had that side of you, but many women who undergo treatment discover they've been repressing their submissive desires their whole lives. Don't be surprised if you feel a little confused for a while."

Samantha nodded, blushing.

"With that, Samantha, you are dismissed. I believe you and Carol are headed to the shops next, right? I recommend, as a beginner, you stick to the Boutique level on the ground floor. There's tasteful bondage gear, latex, fetishwear, the kind of thing I imagine you'll be interested in modelling. The Dungeon level below and the Dollhouse up the spiral stairs from the Boutique are much more…niche. Most would say they're a bit extreme, and they're certainly not something for more casual couples. Take care, now!"

She waved as Samantha and Carol left the room. Samantha tried to walk normally, but her knees were weak and her body still tingled in a strange, pleasant way.

They were walking through a long, white corridor lined with doors, and the air smelled clean, sterile, and faintly of rubber.

They stopped outside the elevator. The doors slid open and Carol ushered Samantha inside. They rode in silence, the soft, whirring noise of the elevator filling the silence. The ride was quick, and the doors opened again to reveal the foyer they had started in, the boutique and the spiral staircase in view, just past the reception desk.

Samantha looked around at the other women in the foyer. Some were in the white latex second-skins, and others were dressed in regular clothes. She wondered if any of them had been treated like her, and how they felt. Were they all like her? Had they all enjoyed the treatment? Had it been their first time?

She thought back to her vision, the latex doll self, the helpless sex toy, the performance on stage. It was like the fantasies she'd had when she'd been a teenager. The ones where was a model, an actress, and always the center of attention. Always the most beautiful. It wasn't until she'd failed to break into the big movie roles she felt she deserved, or get photoshoots with serious fashion brands, that she'd turned to politics. But even there, she was never really able to escape her vanity. She had a huge social media following, a loyal group of followers that lapped up every selfie and status update she posted.

Samantha had always had a bit of a problem with being a bit of a narcissist, she knew. The vision, the dream, had been so intense, so vivid, that it seemed real. It was almost like a drug, a powerful hallucinogen.

"Was that the drug they were using? Was it really that strong?" she wondered.

She'd been so aroused, and the way her body responded to the stimulus was so overwhelming. The orgasm that followed had been so intense that her mind couldn't process it, and it left her exhausted, dazed, and disoriented.

She couldn't stop thinking about how good it had felt, and how she'd been so vulnerable. She'd never been so vulnerable in her life. She was so used to being the one in control, the one in charge.

But in the spa, in that white, latex suit, in those restraints…it was so different. It was like being in a dream. She was free from responsibility and decision-making. Someone else had taken over. She didn't have to do anything. It felt good to give up control. To let go. She was free to enjoy the sensations without worrying about what to do next. To let the fantasies run their course, and not have to worry about whether or not she should.

The thought was strangely comforting.

As they entered the shop, she noticed that the decor was quite elegant, and tasteful. She'd never seen anything like it in person before. The shelves were stocked with various latex items. There were bondage suits and dresses, lingerie, and some items she couldn't identify.

The shop seemed split in two: on the left side were fashionable and expensive outfits and devices, along with a section that appeared full of cosmetics. Most likely she'd find the lipstuck and permaseals there, and maybe buy some solvent so she could unglue Carol's lips and speak with her properly.

The right half of the store looked more like a BDSM sex shop, with harnesses, cuffs, ropes, and every manner of gag Samantha had ever heard of along with even more that she hadn't. A wall display held the latex suits like the ones she had seen in the video and had been wearing during her treatment, and another featured an assortment of orifice plugs.

"God, what if Mistress Lisa had put one of those up my butt?" Samantha wondered, "or in my pussy?"

She remembered the feeling of her orifices being stuffed full with the rubber, and she blushed.

The sales assistant was an androgynous, fauxhawked man in a tailored powder blue blazer. He appeared to either be wearing a touch of makeup, or have taken flawless care of his skin. Samantha supposed he must have been excited to work with some of these designers she'd heard HaremCo used.

"Good morning, ladies, my name is Brandon," said the sales assistant, his voice soft and velvety, "and you are Samantha, of course, and oh my God am I a fan of this new direction for you, girl! You must be DROWNING in attention after that stunt at your book signing, and I'm low-key jealous."

Brandon's bubbly and energetic demeanor made Samantha smile, and she realized he must be gay. She had always loved to hang out with gay men, they made the best friends, and they always seemed to have a sense of style. Brandon had an easy manner that put Samantha at ease. He was clearly not interested in her as a woman, and she appreciated the change of pace from having men drooling over her, even if it was nice to feel desirable.

"I know this is probably your first time here," said Brandon, "so please let me know if I can answer any questions. I'll be happy to help you with whatever you're looking for. And here," he produced a large tote bag from behind the counter, "they let me know you were coming, so I threw together a sample kit for you."

"Sample kit?" Samantha asked.

"Yes! It's a collection of HaremCo's best-selling products and our favorite new items," Brandon handed her the bag, "I thought you'd appreciate getting a feel for the things we sell, and the things that make HaremCo a leader in bondage and fetishwear. You know, we've had some of the top designers from New York to Milan approach us to design new latex collections and cosmetics lines?"

"Oh?" Samantha asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Indeed. Our buyers and product managers have a real eye for quality and a great understanding of what customers want. It's part of our philosophy, I suppose."

"Philosophy?" asked Samantha, her eyebrow arched.

"Yes! You didn't know? Our philosophy is that bondage, discipline, and submission are natural parts of human sexual expression, and they shouldn't be taboo. They should be embraced and enjoyed, because there's no reason not to. And of course, our products and services reflect this."

Samantha blushed and smiled.

"Well, that sounds reasonable," she said. She thought of Mistress Lisa's touch on her skin, of the sensation of the rubber, of her body reacting to the treatment.

She knew she would never forget it.

She rifled through the bag. The samples included several sticks of solvent, a palette of lipstuck color samples, a swath of permaseal plasters in fleshtones, colors, and some designs, and several other items, some of them strange.

There was a ballgag, Samantha recognized that. A few squishy rubber balls, and a dense oblong sponge. She guessed those were meant to go in her mouth, but a few items she was sure were made for oral use: they looked like mouthguards, or retainers. One was a glossy, perfectly machined silicone and looked like it had mouthguards built into a mold of the inside of a mouth, and the other was a transparent hard plastic with elastic bands between the back teeth and a sheet of clear latex stretched across the whole device. There were leather handcuffs, a few rolls of tape, and a bundle of rope. Samantha gulped as she thought of some of those things being used on her, but remembered how she'd felt, despite herself, minutes ago in her sensory deprivation and latex encasement.

"Wow that's…a lot…thanks, Brandon. Can I use the solvent on Carol, so we can talk? Is that allowed?" asked Samntha.

"Sure!" said Brandon, smiling, "and if you want to use anything else on her, go for it. We're very much a 'try before you buy' company. Here, let's get that glue off and I'll show you a designer scold's bridle that just came in. I'm not allowed to say who designed it but…fuck it, it's Versace. You're gonna love it!"

He whipped out a stick of solvent and Carol obediently stayed still as he rubbed it across her glued lips. Samantha was a bit disappointed that he was so anxious to have her gagged again, but she supposed they could talk later, maybe in private.

The solvent left her lips slightly redder and puffy, as if from being kissed hard. Her lips parted slowly, as she breathed through them, and her eyes fluttered open.

Samantha could hear Carol's soft breathing, and she was struck by the fact that the young woman's eyes were a deep, dark brown. She was also wearing the tiniest bit of makeup, and the effect was very subtle, and very pretty.

Carol was beautiful, but not in an obvious way, not in the way of a runway model. Her face was soft, and delicate, and she had a very innocent look.

"Thank you," Carol whispered. She had a lovely, gentle voice, and Samantha could see the appeal of having a gagged woman as an assistant.

Brandon had been busying himself at the makeup counter, and pulled out a large case.

"This, Mrs. Steele, is the Versace Scold's Bridle," said Brandon, "and you're gonna love it."

Brandon popped open the box, and Samantha could see the gleam of polished bronze and steel.

It looked like a cage that encased a woman's head, with a flat, smooth steel bar that extended into a woman's mouth, depressing her tongue. Samantha had heard of these, they were used in medieval times as a form of capital punishment for "scolds": basically, to silence loud-mouthed women. Like feminists.

She could see an angle for this thing, even if it was a bit barbaric looking. She was glad Carol was trying it on first.

Carol was sitting in front of the mirror at the makeup counter, looking nervous. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she was staring at herself in the mirror. Brandon opened the steel straps at the back and pushed the bridle over Carol's face, the tongue depressor sliding into her mouth, making her gag slightly. There was a steel panel over her mouth with an elegantly machined set of bronze lips burnished where her lips would be. There was soft silk padding inside the panel, which compressed until it disappeared under the metal, protecting her face from the harsh metal and pressing against her whole mouth, trapping and muffling it.

Brandon closed the metal bars at the back and locked them with two small padlocks.

"Isn't it fabulous? It's inspired by the traditional Scold's bridle, and it has all the functionality and style you expect from Versace," Brandon smiled as he handed Samantha a key, "this is the master key that goes to all three locks, the last one's at the base of her neck, so it's a bit harder to pick."

"Very interesting," Samantha said, admiring the way the device transformed Carol's face. The bars looked like an open latticework of metal and leather, with the burnished, metallic lips pressed into her own. It looked a bit harsh, and a bit scary, and Samantha could feel herself becoming aroused as she looked at Carol's face, her mouth forced shut by the tongue depressor and metal panel. It was a little cruel, and a little erotic. It was also beautiful, in an almost abstract way. Like a work of art, a sculpture, a fashion accessory, and a statement about women, all at the same time.

Samantha's mind was racing with possibilities.

"It's also available in a few different metals, including gold and silver," said Brandon.

Carol's eyes were wide and frightened. Samantha could tell she was not enjoying this.

Samantha looked at the price tag. It was $2500.

"Jesus, Brandon," Samantha said, "I mean, it's beautiful, and I'd love to buy it, but that's a bit out of my budget. You don't have a less…expensive option?"

Brandon frowned, but then his face lit up.

"You're absolutely right. This one's a little too fancy for what you're trying to accomplish," he said, "we've got some plainer ones in our regular bondage line, those are more around $500. But you know, you've got something similar in your gift bag," he reached in the bag and pulled out one of the gags she hadn't recognized. It looked like a metal horse bit, and it had a tongue depressor just like the one in Carol's bridle.

"Here, let's try that on you," said Brandon.

"Um, that's okay," Samantha stammered, but it was too late. He was already holding the gag in front of her face, and she found herself opening her mouth. The bit was placed between her teeth and the depressor went deep in her mouth, making it impossible for her to talk. He pulled the strap around her head and buckled it behind her.

The bit made her jaw ache and the depressor pressed on her tongue. The strap pressed into the sides of her face and her mouth felt like it was being stretched. She could still breath and drool, but not talk or swallow, and the bit made her teeth clench. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she saw that she looked ridiculous, but also sexy. The bit made her look like a ponygirl, and the bridle gave her a sense of being controlled. It was a little humiliating, and she was a little ashamed of how she liked it.

"You see," said Brandon, as Samantha tried to work her mouth around the bit, her tongue feeling squashed, "there are some real advantages to using this. It's much less restrictive than the bridle, but it's also less restrictive for you, too. You can still talk a little bit, but your mouth is pretty much full, so it's a bit uncomfortable. Plus, the bridle is a little more intimidating, I think, but the bit gag is a little more discrete."

He reached into her gift bag and pulled out another item: a small padlock with a digital display. "Of course, you won't know how it really feels to be trapped in a gag until you're actually unable to remove it for a period of time. I gave you a couple time-delay locks in your gift bag. Wanna try that bit-gag out for, say, five minutes? C'mon, don't be a wuss, you can take it if Carol can, right?"

Samantha looked at the gag and felt a little hesitant. She wasn't sure if she wanted to try it on for that long, especially since it was making her drool, and her mouth already ached. She glanced at Carol, who was looking a bit miserable in the Scold's Bridle, her cheeks flushed with humiliation and her bronze molded lips still and expressionless on her mouth panel.

"C'mon, I'll set the lock for five minutes and I'll get you dressed in something I'm DYING to see you in. It'll be fun!"

She felt embarrassed, humiliated, and aroused at the same time. The idea of being unable to talk or even move her tongue freely was both terrifying and arousing, and the fact that it was making her drool was even more embarrassing. She had a feeling that the five minutes would feel like an hour.

She looked at Carol, who was staring back at her, and then nodded, agreeing to the time lock. She flushed with rage at how Brandon had roped her into this, and how she'd agreed to something so uncomfortable under his coercion. She wanted to tell him to stay in his lane, and respect her boundaries, and she sputtered out, "Thhhhuppph phuupththh, mphhhhuuuupphhh, mmphupth, mmmphth, ththupthh!"

Brandon chuckled as he set the lock for five minutes, "Sorry, Mrs. Steele, you're a little hard to understand right now, but it sounds a bit like you're telling me you like the bit-gag!" He smiled, "Now that you're a little quieter, Carol and I can get you into an outfit I know is just PERFECT for you!"

Brandon led her to a small room in the back, with Carol following. The room was decorated in black, and there was a rack of black clothes hanging on a wall. There were several large mirrors on the walls, and the floor was black as well. Brandon had her stand on a small, raised platform in front of one of the mirrors. Carol was standing next to him, holding a measuring tape.

"We're going to get you all dolled up, just so you can get a sense of how you'd look in some of the bondage and latex fashion items we sell here. You'll need a corset, of course, and maybe a pair of panties. What do you think, Carol? Black latex stockings or full leggings?"

Carol nodded at the stockings.

"Yes, I think you're right, Carol. They'll look so good with the black corset," said Brandon.

Samantha felt embarrassed and frustrated as she stood there in her underwear and stockings, and Carol and Brandon started dressing her, like a doll. She didn't know why, but the idea that someone was dressing her, choosing her clothes for her, made her wet.

She knew she was in for a long five minutes, but she also felt a little turned on.

Brandon started by pulling a black corset over her chest, tightening the laces on the back until they were so tight she could hardly breathe.

"Let me know when it's tight enough," said Brandon, as he began to pull the strings.

She nodded, and he continued to pull the strings. She felt her ribs and waist begin to squeeze together, and the corset began to tighten around her breasts, forcing them to spill out over the top of the bodice. Her breasts began to look enormous, and she blushed with embarrassment as she realized that her breasts were being forced into a more prominent position. Brandon stopped pulling the strings, and Samantha realized that he was done.

"Wow, your breasts really look great in that corset," he said, "but we can make them look even better." He took a pair of latex panties and a matching pink latex bra, with striking white trim, off a rack, handing the panties to Carol.

Samantha was a little shocked at being expected to wear lingerie in front of strangers, but the humiliation of it turned her on. She could feel herself getting wet. She had never worn anything so sexy and provocative in front of a man before, let alone a stranger. It helped that Brandon was gay. He was gay, right? He'd just seen her naked, not to mention helplessly silenced and sputtering…

Samantha tried in vain to swallow, to suck back the spit that was dribbling from the corners of her lips, as she watched Brandon's hands on her body. It felt strange and wrong to be in such a vulnerable position with him. She'd never been so helpless and exposed to a stranger, let alone a gay stranger, before, and she felt like a piece of meat as his fingers touched her body and pulled her clothing into place. His touch was soft and delicate, but she still felt humiliated.

Brandon took the bra and helped her slip her arms through the straps, pulling it tight around her breasts, lifting them, making them appear bigger. She looked at herself in the mirror as he pulled on her bra, her breasts spilling over the top, and the black latex contrasting beautifully with her pale skin.

He then put a pair of panties on her, the same shade as her bra, with a white lace trim. The panties were a perfect fit, and they felt so good on her skin. The latex stockings came next, pulled up to mid-thigh. They felt slick and smooth as he slid them over her legs. Carol helped her slide into a pair of shoulder-length flesh-tone latex gloves, and Samantha was reminded of the yellow rubber gloves that Lily had worn in the photo that had initially inspired her stunt with the tape. She flexed her fingers, and checked herself in the mirror.

She couldn't help but notice that her breasts looked bigger than usual, and her waist was cinched, making her curves even more pronounced. She looked sexy, powerful, and dangerous.

"Beautiful!" said Brandon, "You look like a goddess!"

"mmphhuppphhh!" was all Samantha could say.

"Carol, get the Versace collars, and a leash," said Brandon.

Carol walked over to the wall and took down a beautiful, black collar, and a leash. The collar was made of black leather and silver, with a delicate, intricate design, and a tiny silver lock. Carol fastened the collar around Samantha's neck, and then attached the leash to the front. Samantha felt her body tense up, her muscles tighten, and her pussy throb. She could barely move, and she felt like she was in the presence of a master.

"Beautiful, isn't she, Carol? Look at that gorgeous face," said Brandon. Carol smiled at her with her eyes, and the mute bronze lips said, "mm-hmm!" in a cute squeak. Carol seemed to have gotten used to her gag.

Samantha couldn't see the lock on her gag, and didn't know how long it had been. She tried to ask, working her lips open around the gag and trying her damnedest to enunciate without the use of her tongue, "huuh, thhuuuthhuuh, uhh?"

"Huh? What's that, Mrs. Steele? You'll have to try harder. Try again." said Brandon.

Samantha glared daggers at Brandon as she spat out, "mmmmmmmmuuupphhthuuu, uupphuuupthth?" in the sexiest, cutest way she could manage. It sounded pathetic.

Carol giggled through her gag, a high-pitched moan. It was much more dignified than her own muffled, mangled words. Brandon laughed.

"Mrs. Steele, you're a very poor sport, but at least you know how to take on a challenge. That's what I always loved about your books. You're never a quitter," said Brandon.

"That said, you might want to take a cue from Carol here. Notice how cute she sounds? It's because she's not fighting her gag. Which is more appealing, a frustrated, helpless woman struggling embarrassingly in vain," Samantha grunted and blushed hard, unmitigatedly embarrassed, "or a girl like Carol, meek, cute, and accepting of her role?" Carol giggled softly, "mmmhmmmhmmmmph!"

Samantha huffed through her nose, frustrated. She was being used and controlled, but she couldn't help but feel aroused. She couldn't help but want to play along, to try and look cute like Carol, instead of like the struggling embarrassment Brandon had described her as.

Her eyes flicked to Carol, then down at her own body. The black latex stockings clung tightly to her legs, making her calves and thighs appear shapely and muscular. Her breasts were pushed together and up, spilling out of her bra. Her stomach was tight and toned. The dress clung tightly to her curves. The latex felt so smooth on her skin. She felt sexy and powerful, except for the gag.

Carol had her breasts hanging free and pushed up in the rubber bra, her lips clamped shut under a panel of metal, a metal grid and leather straps encasing her face. Her eyes looked submissive and eager, as if she were a pet ready for her master's attention.

Samantha felt a strange sense of camaraderie with Carol. She felt as if the two of them were on the same team, a team of submissive, sexy women. It felt so different from what she usually experienced. She'd been so focused on her own power, her own ambition, and now she was in the company of another woman who was in a similar position, a woman who was just as powerless and submissive as she was. It was a new feeling for Samantha, one that was both scary and exciting.

She bit down on her infernal gag, then gently took Carol's hands in hers, looking in her eyes, and cooed softly, "ummmphh, mmmphph, uuhhmmmph." It felt good. It was almost like she could tell what Carol was thinking.

Carol squeezed Samantha's hands, and looked back at her. Her eyes were full of emotion and meaning. Samantha felt like Carol understood her, like they had a bond, a connection.

Carol was so pretty, and so vulnerable. Samantha wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that everything was okay.

"Ummphh, uhhmph, mmmmhph, ummmmmph, uuhhhhph, mmpphhhhmm," she murmured.

She could see Carol was feeling the same way, her eyes shining with emotion.

Carol reached up and gently caressed Samantha's face, stroking her hair. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Samantha's, her metal, sculpted bronze lips meeting her dribbling, quivering fish-mouthed ones.

"Oooh, my!" squealed Brandon, "look who's communicating non-verbally like a pro sub all of a sudden! You guys are so hot, we should take a picture! I won't post it, I promise, but you can if you want, Ms. Steele! This is too good not to record, wouldn't you say?"

Carol looked up at Samantha, and nodded, "Mmhmmm," she said. It sounded like she agreed.

Samantha blushed. She was wearing a collar and a leash. She had a gag in her mouth and she looked ridiculous, but she couldn't resist the temptation.

"Mmm-hmmm, mphhh, mmm-hmmm, mmm-hmmm, mm-mmmmmphh," she said. Her voice was muffled, but she tried as hard as she could to make cute little gagged sounds like Carol, instead of struggling and failing to speak. It was like this was her voice now, she had to communicate in her new language of wordless moans and whimpers. It was the first time she'd been gagged like this, and the humiliation of it made her feel aroused. It also felt strangely empowering, to be understood without speaking. It felt intimate, almost like the way it felt when you and a lover had spent so long in silence that you could communicate with your eyes, your smiles, your movements.

Carol put her arms around Samantha and held her close, as if she understood how she was feeling. It felt good, being in the arms of another woman.

"Okay, stand still, girls," said Brandon. He took out his phone and snapped several photos of them. Samantha could hear the shutter clicking as he took the pictures.

He then held the phone in front of them so they could see themselves. Samantha was embarrassed by the picture, but it looked good, so good, and it felt good to see her reflection.

Carol was looking at her too, with her big, brown, doe-eyes. Samantha smiled, and Carol smiled back, even if her mouth couldn't. They looked like a couple of glamorous supermodels, all dolled up in bondage gear, but unable to speak. The picture looked like a scene from a fashion shoot. It was very sexy, and Samantha was aroused.

Samantha couldn't stop looking at the picture. She was fascinated by it, and she wanted to keep looking at it. She wanted to keep looking at the two of them, the two beautiful, helpless women. She knew it was dangerous, that if anyone saw the pictures she'd be in trouble. She'd never be able to explain how she'd been reduced to such a vulnerable, helpless state. But she didn't care. She felt safe and secure with Carol, and she didn't care if she was in trouble, if anyone found out about her and Carol. They'd be in this together, wouldn't they? Together, the two of them were strong enough to handle anything, weren't they?

She was still drooling a bit. Carol dabbed her chin and lips with a soft tissue. The feeling of her lips being wiped clean was nice. It was a strange sensation, and it felt good.

Carol smiled at her again.

"Okay girls, let's get you un-gagged," Brandon smiled. Samantha heard the digital beeps of her time lock opening. The gag loosened and fell from her lips. She spit the bit out and worked her jaw, massaging the joint. She was grateful for the relief from the gag.

Carol was un-gagged and smiled, relieved.

"Oh God, I hated that thing!" Samantha exclaimed.

"It looks great on you though," Brandon said, "you looked very sexy and elegant, especially in this outfit."

"I know, right?" said Carol. Her voice was soft and gentle. Samantha felt a rush of emotion for her new friend. It was like they were in their own little world.

"Here's your phone, Ms. Steele," Brandon said, handing it to Samantha. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Steele. It's just, you're such an inspiring person, and you've written some amazing books, and I feel so honored to have the chance to work with you. You were just so good in the bridle and the dress and everything, and you were just such an amazing model. I can't give away the house just because I love you, but take those gloves and stockings on the house. And the collar, too," he winked, "every sub needs a collar, after all."

"Thank you," Samantha said, blushing.

Carol put her arm around Samantha's waist, and the two of them walked out of the dressing room, holding each other, giggling like teenagers.

Samantha looked at the photos Brandon had taken of the two of them and saw that they were both very attractive, but in very different ways.

Carol was pretty, with long, dark, curly hair, and a beautiful figure, but her face was so sweet and innocent, and she had such big brown eyes.

Samantha was striking, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a wide mouth. Her eyes were green and she had long, dark lashes. She was very tall, but not as thin as she would like to be.

Samantha felt like a different person, and she liked it.

"Can you send these pictures to my phone?" Samantha asked.

"Of course, but I thought you didn't want to post pictures like that online."

"I don't, but I'd like to keep them, if I may. They make me happy." said Samantha.

She took her phone, and selected one of the best photos to post. It showed her in the latex dress and collar, looking sexy, vulnerable, and powerful all at once. The photo made her look so beautiful. It was like she'd been captured at a moment when she was most confident, most self-assured, and most powerful. It was like a perfect photograph, the one she would show her husband and friends, in her dream life. Maybe she could make friends like Carol, and she could sure attract a man, modeling kinky stuff like this.

"Say, Brandon, what about those weird mouthguard things in the gift bag? I was meaning to ask you about those," she asked, and he took them out of the gift bag and laid them out on the counter.

"Well," said Brandon, "this is our mouthplug. It's silicone and it's molded to the shape of the mouth, with a space to accommodate the tongue. It's designed to fill the oral cavity entirely. This should be used under a tape gag, a muzzle, a hood, or something else to keep it in. Although, the Dungeon sells an inflatable one. A couple pumps, and it expands past the point it can be spit out. It's so humiliating, too, having your lips spread wide and your cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk!" he gave a devilish grin, "but this smaller one will let you close your mouth to tape it shut."

"Is that what these balls, and that sponge are for?" asked Samantha.

"Girl to be honest, you showed how amateur you were with that cheesy little packing tape gag, with nothing under it," said Brandon, "you should've put something absorbent like this foam sponge under there to catch the drool and muffle the sound of your mouth, or something solid like a ball to keep you quiet."

Samantha blushed.

"Or of course, there's the classic: stuff your panties in your mouth, or maybe a sock. That's the most conventional approach, if you're looking to post something more mainstream."

"Oh," she said.

"But of course, the real kinky way is to use the tape over the MouthPlug or one of these balls. Maybe a permaseal, so you can keep your hands free while still being silenced. That said, permaseals and mouthplugs are HaremCo IP, and you'll tell your fans immediately of your association with us by posting them. Oh, I almost forgot," he pulled what looked like an invisible mouthguard with some translucent pink latex stretched over it, "this is a Garble. You remember how embarrassing it was to talk with that tongue depressor?"

"Yes," said Samantha, blushing.

"Well, this is even more embarrassing," said Brandon, "watch." He pulled Carol over by her shoulder, "Open your mouth and say 'Ahh', sweetie." He put the device in her mouth, stretching the latex over her tongue and pulling the elastic between the back of her two top and bottom teeth. She looked embarrassed.

"Now try and say your name."

"Cwohl, ummmph, mmmm, Cwol…" she whimpered, her words coming out like she was speaking with her mouth full.

"See? She'll have to get used to talking like this. It's humiliating. A lot of women in this company are forced to wear one of these all day, every day. It's a powerful tool of psychological conditioning, and great for punishment."

"Oooh, that's so mean!" said Samantha. She turned to Carol.

"How do you like being garbled, Carol? How does it feel?"

"Ummphh, ththtph," said Carol.

"What did you say?"

"I thaid, ithth nithth," said Carol, "buhth I can'th sthoph ithking about ithth. It's thoo embarraththing," said Carol, blushing. "Pleathth, don'th posht me wearing ithth," she begged, tears in her eyes.

Samantha laughed.

"Don't worry, I won't. It's just so funny how you sound. It's cute! You're cute!" she laughed, patting Carol on the shoulder. She was so embarrassed, but Samantha was loving the fact that Carol was so helpless and humiliated.

Samantha felt a pang of sympathy for the woman, and a sense of camaraderie. It felt good to be with a fellow woman in the same situation.

"Well, Carol, I guess you're going to have to get used to the Garble," said Samantha, "it's part of the package of working at HaremCo, right?" she laughed.

"Yeth, I guththth," Carol said, resigned, "but it'th tho embarraththing, I can't thtoph thinking about it."

"Hey, I'll tell you what," said Samantha, "I'm going to let you out of that, if you do one more little thing for me," she whispered in her ear, conspiratorially, "if you want to, that is."

"Yeth, whathth thathth?" Carol asked, still lisping heavily and enunciating slowly, embarrassed by her speech impediment, her eyes still pleading, begging, to be let free of her garble, her eyes still teary, and her cheeks still red from humiliation.

"Can I kiss you?" Samantha asked.

"Y-y-ye-yeth, if you want to, thure," said Carol, her face redder than before. She looked surprised and scared. Her face was still wet with tears. Her lips were parted, her tongue stuck out slightly. The slightly white, translucent latex stretched over it. It looked like she was wearing a rubber retainer, but the shape and feel was closer to a condom stretched over her tongue.

Samantha leaned in, her face getting close to Carol's. She closed her eyes, her lips inches from Carol's. Her mouth open. She kissed Carol on the lips. The kiss was long and deep. Carol's mouth opened, and the latex over her tongue touched Samantha's. Their lips pressed against each other, their tongues touched. Carol's tongue was rubbery and soft.

The latex stretched over her tongue was a little rubbery and a little slippery. Samantha ran her tongue along the underside of it. Carol moaned into Samantha's mouth as their kiss continued.

Carol's eyes opened, her gaze met Samantha's.

Carol's eyes were full of longing and need. She was embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated. But she needed Samantha. She needed her comfort. She needed her touch. She needed her love. She needed her help. She needed her to help her. To rescue her. To save her from this garble.

Samantha pulled back from the kiss. She looked into Carol's eyes, her pupils dilated with lust. Carol was breathing fast. She was flushed.

Samantha took a step back. Carol was panting, her eyes were wild, she was trembling. She was so vulnerable. Samantha could do anything to her and Carol wouldn't be able to resist, or say anything coherent. It was almost intoxicating. She wanted to do everything to Carol. She wanted to touch her. She wanted to feel her. She wanted to fuck her.

"Hey," said Brandon, interrupting the silence, "Mrs. Steele, do you mind if we do something to Carol, just to test out the garble?"

"No," said Samantha. She felt a pang of guilt, "as long as we remove the garble after, like I promised." she said, her face reddening. Carol was a friend now. She was an innocent, helpless, vulnerable friend. She'd do anything for Samantha. Anything she asked.

"Okay," said Brandon, "so, let's get this off of Carol." He popped the Garble from her mouth and held it in his palm. "Now, Carol, can you say 'Ahh' for me, and hold your mouth open?" Carol opened her mouth, and he put a silicone MouthPlug in, fitting it snugly over her tongue and into her cheeks. "Now, close your mouth, please." Carol did so, her cheeks slightly puffing out. She looked embarrassed again, like a child at the dentist, and Samantha giggled.

Brandon then pulled a roll of clear vinyl tape off the counter and tore off a 6 inch strip. "Now, Carol, stay still." He put the strip over her closed mouth, sealing in the MouthPlug.

Samantha laughed. Carol looked embarrassed, helpless, and cute. Her mouth was full, her cheeks slightly puffed out, and she looked adorable. Like she'd just stuffed her cheeks full of something tasty.

"Now, Carol, try to say something, please," Brandon said, teasingly.

"Mmmmhhh," Carol mumbled through her taped-shut lips. Her eyes were pleading with Brandon and Samantha to let her speak.

"Come on, you can do better than that," said Brandon. "Say 'Hello, my name is Carol'."

"Mmmhhmmphhmmhph, hmmphmmhmmphmmph," Carol said, trying to talk through the mouth plug and the tape gag.

"Now try to scream, Carol, come on," said Brandon. "Scream as loud as you can!" he laughed, enjoying teasing the poor girl.

"Hmmphhhh!" said Carol. "Hmmhphhhhmm!" she cried, tears forming in her eyes again.

"Wow," said Samantha. "She sounds pathetic."

"I know, that mouthplug really does the job. You can barely hear her. The tape is just overkill. Makes it look more kinky," Brandon said. "Now, try to chew the mouth plug, Carol. See if you can work your teeth and your jaw, see if it's too hard or too soft. Make sure it's the right density."

Carol's mouth worked, her jaw flexing, and she struggled with her mouth.

"Now try to spit it out, come on, you can do it. Work that tongue and those teeth," Brandon laughed. He looked at Samantha and smiled, his eyes bright.

Carol tried to spit it out. She couldn't. She looked frustrated and upset.

"Here," said Brandon, "let me take it off for you," and he peeled off the tape and took the MouthPlug out.

Carol looked at Samantha. She was crying.

"Thank you," she said, her voice shaking.

"I'm sorry I was laughing," said Samantha, "but I was just teasing."

"It was embarrassing," Carol said, "I think I like the lipstuck better…but I am yours to command, Ms. Steele. Humiliate me if you want, I promise to be good."

"You're so brave," Samantha said. She turned to Brandon. "Do you mind if I try one of the other gags? The one you put on Carol looks really sexy."

"Sure, Mrs. Steele. You can try whatever you want," Brandon said.

Samantha put on the clear plastic MouthPlug. It felt like it was filling her mouth. Her tongue felt trapped and her teeth felt like they were biting down on rubber. It felt strange, but it also felt good. It made her feel safe.

Samantha pulled the clear vinyl tape off the roll, tearing it at a 6-inch length. She put the strip over her closed mouth and sealed it in with the clear vinyl tape.

"Now, say 'Hello, my name is Samantha.' Go ahead, try to talk, see how it feels," Brandon encouraged her.

"Mmhhmmhmmm, hmmhhmhhhm," said Samantha. "Hmmhhmmmhmmm," she added.

"Now try to chew," Brandon said. "Make sure the silicone is firm enough and the right density. And make sure the edges don't hurt."

"Mmmhhmm," said Samantha. She could barely hear herself.

"Now try to spit it out," Brandon said, grinning. "Try to get your tongue up and around the plug, try to use your teeth. See if you can force it out. Give it your best effort," he teased her.

"Hmmhhhhmmph!" Samantha moaned, as she tried to spit it out. "Hmmhhmmmph!"

She tried again, harder. It didn't budge.

Brandon laughed.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Steele, I couldn't resist teasing you," Brandon apologized, and removed the tape gag and MouthPlug.

"That's okay," said Samantha, "it was pretty funny, actually." She laughed. "I think that mouth plug is the most effective thing you've shown me, but the lipstuck glue is more discreet and the Garble is more humiliating."

"Well, that's all a matter of personal preference, Mrs. Steele. You can choose whichever you prefer," Brandon said.

"Oh, please, call me Samantha. You're so kind and helpful," she smiled.

"Thanks, Samantha," said Brandon, smiling, "you know, you seem to have really taken a liking to this stuff. I can tell you're cut out for it, if you don't mind me saying. I normally don't recommend our other shops like the Dungeon or the Dollhouse to newbies, but you are a VIP after all…and it sounds like you might actually like our more advanced bondage gear."

"Well, what do you mean?" asked Samantha. "The Dungeon, and the Dollhouse…those are other specialty shops, right? In this building?"

"Yeah," said Brandon, "we're on the first floor, the Dungeon's below us in the basement, through a trapdoor, and the Dollhouse is up that spiral staircase. All HaremCo employees can get into the Dungeon by scanning their ID badges on the reader, but not everyone is allowed in the Dollhouse. That place is invite only, but you, of course, have the privilege to get in. You could even bring a friend or two."

"What do you sell in the Dungeon?" Samantha asked. She was a bit nervous.

"Oh, you know," said Brandon, "whips, floggers, clamps, cuffs, hoods, straitjackets, chains, cages, stocks, crosses… all the good stuff, really."

"What's a cross?" asked Samantha.

"Oh, you know, a St. Andrew's Cross, or a bondage cross," Brandon explained, "it's like a big X. You tie someone to it and whip or flog them. Or you can leave them hanging on it as a punishment."

"And a stock?" asked Samantha.

"Stocks are a traditional restraint," Brandon explained. "They have a top half that goes around the neck and wrists, and a bottom half that goes around the ankles. The person is locked in and can't move."

"I see," said Samantha.

"And what do you sell at the Dollhouse?" Samantha asked.

"The Dollhouse sells complete dollification transformation systems. They can turn you into a posable mannequin or a living rubber sex doll. Their range of latex doll suits is incredible, and they even do special custom suits like anime or video game character recreations. They're like the extreme gimp suits the Dungeon sells, but made for long-term wear and styled to be beautiful. Then there's our petplay line, the FreakPet suits. There's suits to make a woman into a pretty pony, puppy, kitty, or even more humiliating things like a pig or a duck, with a quacking squeak-box in the muzzle."

"Oh, my," said Samantha.

"I've seen some really good-looking rubber women down there, but they are very expensive and require some commitment to the lifestyle," said Brandon.

Samantha didn't want to go into that shop. She was interested, but it seemed too much.

"Would I like anything in there?" Samantha asked.

"Maybe," said Brandon. "You're very pretty, so I'm sure they would be happy to show you some things, especially since you're a VIP, of course."

Samantha thought about it. She was very curious about these places and what they sold, but she was nervous. She didn't want to embarrass herself, and she didn't want to be in over her head. But she was also excited. She felt a thrill, a tingling, a yearning for adventure. She was so excited she had butterflies.

"Maybe we should take a look," she said. "Let's check out the Dungeon first."

Brandon led Samantha and Carol to a hidden stairway in the back of the shop that descended into a dimly-lit basement. They went down the stairs. Samantha's eyes adjusted to the dark. The air was musty and smelled of leather. She heard a faint buzzing sound, and the sound of moaning, muffled.

Samantha felt her heart pounding. She felt a rush of adrenaline. This was a whole new world for her, and it was exciting. Brandon unlocked the heavy steel door with a keypad and biometric handprint scanner. They stepped inside.

Samantha was surprised by how large the basement was. The room was divided into two areas, separated by a long wall with a door. To her left was the sales floor. There were racks of bondage gear, racks of clothing, and shelves of accessories.

Samantha walked into the sales area, looking at all the different types of restraints and equipment. She felt excited and a little nervous.

Brandon introduced Samantha to a tall, muscular, and handsome older man who wore a black t-shirt and black pants. His hair was silver-gray. Samantha felt intimidated. The man smiled and held out his hand to her.

"I'm Dominic," he said. "Brandon told me about you, and said you were coming down. I'm the Dungeon's sales and operations lead."

Samantha shook his hand and introduced herself.

"I'm a fan of yours, Ms. Steele," said Dominic. "I've read all your books. You've really been a beacon of hope for a lot of us who don't buy into the whole feminist, progressive agenda. Your voice has been a breath of fresh air in this city."

"Thank you," Samantha said. She was a little nervous talking to such a big man. "I've never been in a place like this before," she said. "I'm just a bit curious, I suppose."

"Of course you are, Ms. Steele. This is a new and exciting experience for you, and I'm glad you've decided to come here and check out the Dungeon." He gestured towards a display of whips, crops, and other devices of torture.

"Hello, Master Dominic," said Carol, bowing her head and trembling slightly, "I'm Ms. Steele's escort today. I've done everything she told me, I promise."

"I know you have, pet," said Master Dominic. "Now, why don't you get on your knees, and we'll see what else we can do for Ms. Steele." He patted his leg and Carol obediently dropped to her knees and knelt at his feet. He reached down and petted her hair. Samantha watched the scene with a mix of arousal, fascination, and horror. Carol was a sweet and vulnerable girl. Samantha didn't want her to be abused and humiliated, but she didn't feel like she had any authority to speak up for her. It would be embarrassing to admit she'd become friends with this helpless submissive.

Master Dominic gave a wicked smile, and he reached down to caress Carol's hair again, gently, as if to reassure her.

"So you're the one who…owns Carol, I guess?" asked Samantha. The word sounded strange and foreign to her, like the way someone in a documentary about BDSM would say the word 'Master.'

"Well, it's not that simple," said Master Dominic, "Carol's in training, so she belongs to the company until she graduates, at which point her guardianship will be transferred to her new Master. But I have the privilege of training her and molding her into a good, submissive woman, and she reports to me for daily tasks. She also addresses me as 'Master' and follows my every command. And when I'm finished, I can recommend her for employment or sale, or even put her back in storage if I feel like she needs to be taught more respect."

"I see," said Samantha, shuddering.

"So," asked Dominic, "would you like to try a few of the items on display? I'd love to demonstrate them for you."

"I'm not sure," said Samantha. She felt scared, and embarrassed, but also excited.

"Come on, Samantha, let me show you how it's done. You might learn a thing or two. I can see you're a woman who's used to being in control. You have a lot of authority in your job. I bet you like being on top."

Samantha nodded, and her face felt warm, but it wasn't because of embarrassment. It was because she was turned on. Her pussy felt hot, and her nipples tingled. She was aroused. She wanted to be in control, but she wanted to submit too.

Dominic smiled, and he led her and Carol to the bondage furniture display. He had Carol lie face-up on a bondage table.

"So," he said, "what we're going to do here is show off the merchandise, so that our customer here can decide whether she likes the idea or not. This is called a 'bondage table', and you'll see that there are rings on each corner where you can tie down the girl. We're going to do that, but first we'll put some restraints on Carol so she's nice and secure."

Dominic produced a set of bondage gear from under the table: leather mitts, and a rubber hood with an inflatable dildo in its mouth.

"The first thing we're going to do is put her in this," said Dominic, taking the leather mitts, "they're called 'finger control' mittens. They keep her hands nice and secure. She won't be able to undo her restraints or use her hands at all with these leather mitts encasing her hands."

He pulled the mitts over Carol's hands, buckling each one tightly. He showed how they could be locked together at her wrists. Dominic then took a pair of black latex panties, and a latex hood, both with an inflatable dildo inside. The hood was shaped like the head of a woman, with holes for the eyes and nostrils. The dildo in its mouth would expand and push deep into the sub's throat, and there was a valve on the outside of the hood. He then put the hood over Carol's head. He made her kneel down, and then he pushed the dildo inside the panties into her pussy, making her whimper. Then he pushed the hood dildo in, stretching her lips and making her moan, as the thick shaft entered her mouth. He started to inflate the shaft with a valve on the outside of the hood, slowly and carefully. Carol groaned, her eyes rolling up. Samantha watched with a mixture of fear, awe, and excitement. She'd never seen a girl being dominated and restrained like this before, let alone a woman who'd become her friend. She felt sorry for Carol, and at the same time, her own pussy got hot.

The latex hood fit snugly over Carol's head. The dildo inside her mouth expanded until it filled the whole hood and bulged her cheeks. The shaft pushed deep down her throat. Samantha watched, mesmerized by Carol's plight. Her lips and throat bulged around the latex shaft and she groaned and moaned as Dominic continued to pump the dildo. He inflated it until Carol's cheeks were stretched so tight that they were forced apart and her face looked grotesquely swollen. Her eyes rolled up, and she whimpered, helpless.

Samantha could hardly breathe. She was horrified and fascinated. Carol looked so helpless. Her mouth was stuffed to the brim, her cheeks were stretched wide, her eyes were rolled up in her head.

Samantha could only imagine how uncomfortable and helpless she would be if that were her in Carol's place. Her mouth and throat felt so tight and dry, and she felt the urge to run her tongue along her lips and try to swallow, as if she needed to get the sensation out of her own throat. She tried to shake her head, as if she was trying to shake off the feeling. But she couldn't get the images of Carol's stuffed and bulging mouth out of her head. Her throat was dry and her mouth was parched.

"Isn't it great?" said Master Dominic, smiling at Samantha. "This is the perfect gag. It fills her mouth completely and keeps her quiet. I love it."

"Yes," said Samantha. She couldn't deny that it looked sexy. "It looks…nice." She felt embarrassed, but she wanted to see more. "But isn't there…some way she could breathe?"

"Oh, she's fine," said Master Dominic, laughing, "see this little hole in the center of the dildo gag? Just above the inflation port," he gestured to a small hole in the center of the round protrusion under the hood, which was leaking a trail of drool, "she can breathe through this, and can even drink water or liquid foods through a tube. We sell dispensers for nutrient smoothies, they look like water dispensers for small pets."

He led Carol by her leash to an array of what looked like water dispensers for guinea pigs on the wall. "My favorite is our endurance blend," he gestured to a bottle filled with dark purple goo, "it's got all the nutrition she needs plus a dose of mild stimulants and euphorics. It'll keep her alert and heighten all her sensations, as well as making her a bit more suggestible. It's great for subs that are struggling to adjust to new disciplinary measures. Go ahead, Carol, it must be about lunch time for you."

Carol whined meekly, then slowly approached the dispenser with her hooded face, slipping the nozzle into the hole in her gag. She worked her jaw and throat, sucking on the rubber dildo in her mouth to extract the smoothie mix from the bottle.

Samantha felt her stomach flutter, and a surge of guilt, "Oh God, you mean you don't feed her…normally?"

"Not while she's gagged, no, I don't want to take it off. I like to watch her struggle a little to eat. And besides, she can't take solids like this. I have to feed her something that she can suck through her gag. She can't use her hands either, because of her finger control mittens. It's a great way to train her."

"I see," said Samantha, blushing, as Carol's eyes closed and her head tilted up. She seemed to be in bliss, savoring the taste of the goo. She moaned in pleasure.

Master Dominic looked at Samantha and grinned.

He turned to Samantha, a slight schoolboy glow in his eyes, and said, "you know, I'm something of an expert in restraint techniques and psychological conditioning. I don't know if you have a sponsor lined up for your training, but I'd be flattered if you asked to be part of my next orientation class. I think it's important you're initiated by someone who shares your values. I'm an ex-marine, a registered Republican, and I've consulted with Sean about Senator Blume's legislative proposal regarding female custody. I believe that dom/sub partnerships could become a form of marriage, a way for us to reestablish a traditional, nuclear family in which the male is the breadwinner and guardian, and the submissive woman is his property, subject to his will, but cared for and protected in a way that women have always needed. A partnership that will finally give a husband true legal authority to protect his submissive woman from herself and her bad decisions. If she's too weak to make a decision, or to protect herself, she needs a man to help her, don't you think, Mrs. Steele? I know you agree with me, based on what I've read of your books."

He looked at her with his deep, brown eyes. She found him handsome and attractive, but there was an air of danger about him that frightened her.

"Ummm," said Samantha, hesitatingly. She wanted to agree with him. She wanted him to mentor her. But she was afraid of what that might mean, of how it would feel to be dominated by someone she was so strongly attracted to, especially if he was in charge of her training.

Master Dominic seemed to sense her hesitation. "I won't be your master, of course, just your trainer, at first," he said, "but I'll be in charge of you for the duration of the program, and I'll make all the decisions regarding your care and treatment. You'd be a very lucky girl to be under my protection, if I'm allowed to say so."

"I'll think about it," said Samantha. "I'll have to consider my options carefully." But in her mind, she'd already made up her mind.

"Well, think about it carefully, because once you've been claimed, you'll have to accept your place in the program, whatever that may be. And I don't think a lady of your stature and influence will end up in a place she wouldn't like, and I'd be proud to help with that, and be part of your story, if you'd let me," Dominic smiled, and turned back to Carol. She was still slurping and gulping at her smoothie dispenser. He stroked her shoulder with one finger, slowly, tenderly.

"Carol, my dear, you've been a very good girl today," he said. "Now, why don't you finish your smoothie, and we'll get back to showing Mrs. Steele some more of our wares." Carol's eyes widened with joy, and she went back to slurping on her dispenser. She was so hungry, she couldn't seem to get enough of it, even though her face was stuffed with the huge, rubber cock of the gag, and she couldn't swallow it all at once.

Carol looked like she was in a trance. Her eyes rolled up, her body shook. Samantha watched her, mesmerized by her bliss.

"Wow," said Samantha, "I've never seen a girl eat like that before, so…passionately. You said that smoothie was drugged, right?"

"Oh yes, very mildly. The drugs are mostly euphoric, to help her accept her predicament and make her feel content. There's also a mild stimulant to keep her alert, even as the hypnotics put her in a trancelike state. She's a little loopy, but very receptive to suggestions. It's very important that you give her positive reinforcement at this point in her training. Tell her how good she's being, how pretty, how obedient, how submissive. That will make it easier for her to learn her place. But if you tell her she's a whore, a slut, a cunt, she'll start to believe it. I'm sure you'd never use words like that though," Dominic said, "and I've noticed you're very encouraging to her. Very positive."

"I do try to be," said Samantha. "She's been very kind and helpful."

"Indeed, that's the goal of her training," he smiled. "A good, obedient sub is always polite, always willing, and always helpful."

Samantha considered Master Dominic, his rugged jawline, military demeanor, and the way he handled Carol. She tried to remember the last time she had sex, or even went on a date with a man. Most were too scared of her hardliner public persona, or wanted someone younger and less intimidating. She wondered if Dominic saw her as a professional opportunity, a way to train a big star and prove his skills to HaremCo executives, or if he really liked her.

"Would you really be willing to sponsor my initiation, Mr. Dominic?" Samantha asked.

"Oh, it would be a privilege to do so. You'd make an excellent candidate," said Dominic. "You're smart, you're strong, you're independent. And you're not a young girl like most of my students, you're a woman. I've been looking to work with a mature, independent woman like yourself. I'm just an old-fashioned guy, I like my girls strong-willed, with a little more life experience. That way I know they're not just going along with what's expected of them by their friends and the media, they've had the courage to chart their own course, even if that course leads them right into my arms." He looked her in the eyes, and Samantha felt herself swooning.

"Wow, that's very flattering," blushed Samantha, "do you maybe want to…get to know each other a bit before we jump into business? Maybe over dinner, or you could come to my place, or…I mean, do you have a woman in your life? I'm not seeing anyone right now, it's hard to find a real traditional, masculine man these days, and…uh…" she was stumbling all over herself. It was deeply embarrassing. But it had been so long since a man had looked at her the way Dominic was, and it was so refreshing, she felt the words tumbling out of her mouth.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to train anyone I know personally. It's important for me to be objective in my handling of submissives, to be dispassionate in their discipline," explained Dominic, "however, if I am your sponsor, I am able to arrange private training sessions for you at my home, and I can take you out with me. Public outings help to normalize lifestyle submission, both getting the public used to seeing restrained women and acclimating women to their new status."

Samantha was intrigued. The prospect of a date, or even private training, excited her. But it also worried her, and made her nervous. It wasn't just a simple matter of spending time with a man. There were real, life-altering stakes involved, especially when she would be at his mercy.

"Umm," said Samantha. She hesitated, wondering how to phrase it. "What do you mean by taking me out?" She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice.

"I'd like to take you as my date to a VIP dinner we're having tomorrow. It's at a three star French restaurant in the Hollywood hills, not far from here. HaremCo executives, veteran trainers like myself, and members of the Blume campaign will be in attendance. It would honor me, and solidify my reputation, if I were to bring such an important talent like you to the dinner. But you'll have to be on your best behavior, as your submission will reflect on my training."

Samantha's mind was racing. This was an incredible opportunity. It was a chance to meet important people in the business world and government. But she was afraid, too. Afraid of what it might mean for her, of what it would say about her if she went along.

"I'll go," she blurted, without thinking, surprising herself. It wasn't the most logical thing to say, but it felt right.

Dominic's face broke into a broad smile, his teeth flashing. "Excellent," he said, and he reached out and squeezed her arm.

Samantha felt a rush of excitement. Her heart was racing. It had been so long since she had been with a man, and the idea of a date, especially with a powerful man, was thrilling.

"Here's my number," said Dominic, pulling out his phone, "give me yours, and I'll send you my HaremFans handle."

"HaremFans?" asked Samantha, fumbling with her phone in her pocket.

"It's just like OnlyFans, but for HaremCo models. My handle will pull up all the girls' activity in my harem, including Carol once she starts doing sessions. If you want to check up on her, you can follow her HaremFans account."

They exchanged numbers, and Dominic sent her a text that read: "MasterDom at HaremFans, CutieCarol at HaremFans."

"Remember to tell Michelle you want me as your sponsor on your way out. Now, if I heard correctly, you're headed up to the Dollhouse?"

"Yes, I'm interested in trying out the more exotic bondage suits."

"Well then, here's my ID, swipe it to get up the spiral staircase," said Dominic. "And when you're done up there, I'll be around to take you to dinner. I'm not averse to the idea of having a private session at my house afterwards. We'll discuss your options, and maybe do some training. I know you're nervous and unsure about all of this, but if we're going to dinner tomorrow and I'm sponsoring you, I'd like you to have a little experience under your belt. It will be good for both of us to establish our relationship before you make it official."

"Thank you," said Samantha. She was feeling a little nervous, and a little excited. This was all moving so fast. She wanted to go on this dinner date with him, she wanted him to take charge of her, to dominate her. But she was also scared.

As Dominic led her and Carol back out to the front, he turned to Samantha. "I've always enjoyed your books," he said. "I'm glad we've been able to make this connection."

Samantha smiled and thanked him. Dominic deftly deflated the dildos in Carol's mouth and pussy, removing her hood, panties, and her bondage mitts.

"Thank you Master, thank you Ms. Steele," said Carol, slightly slurring, her cheeks rosy and pupils still dilated from the drug cocktail.

"No problem, sweetie," said Samantha. She felt her heart swell. Carol was such a sweetheart, and Samantha was so glad she'd taken the risk of coming here, and that she'd found her. She'd found something in Carol, a friend, a confidant, someone she could share this experience with.

"Come on, we're going upstairs. I'm interested in the Dollhouse," she said.

Samantha led Carol back out of the shop, and through a secret doorway to a hidden staircase.

***

The staircase was a narrow, spiral affair that led to the upper level of the shop. The steps were steep and slippery. There was a metal rail to hold on to. Samantha held on to the rail and Carol's leash, pulling her behind her.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, but finally, the two of them reached a landing. There was a door with a glass panel that read "Dollhouse."

Samantha knocked. A pretty young woman answered the door.

"Hi, I'm Barbie," said the woman. She was a petite blonde, dressed in a black latex corset and a latex miniskirt.

Samantha looked down at the girl's feet and noticed she was wearing six-inch high heels.

"I guess that's a perfect name for the shopkeeper of the Dollhouse, huh?" joked Samantha. She laughed nervously. She was so embarrassed about everything that had happened today. She'd seen so much bondage, humiliation, and degradation. She'd never thought about it, or fantasized about it, until today. It was confusing, but it was also exciting. The whole day felt like an adventure. She was eager to see more of this world she'd never dreamed existed.

Barbie led her to a large display of dollsuits.

"Wow," said Samantha.

Barbie showed off some of the more popular dollsuits, the generic "sexy doll" models that were molded to look like sex toys. Samantha blushed, imagining how she would feel wearing a dollsuit like that. It would be a humiliating and exciting experience to have men use her as their toy. She felt a surge of arousal.

Barbie showed her a variety of different types of dollsuits.

There were dollsuits based on celebrities, anime characters, and Disney princesses.

"We can make you look like a famous singer, a character from a TV show or a movie, even an anime girl," she explained, "or a disney princess, if you want to be treated like royalty, and worshiped like a queen." Samantha's head swam.

"And here we have the FreakPets," continued Barbie, pointing to a line of animal-themed rubber catsuits, each one with a cartoonish, animalistic head, like a dog, a horse, or a pig. "The FreakPets are a more intense form of dollification. You don't just look like a sexy toy for men. You are a toy for men. You have no choice but to crawl, and your voice-box makes it so that all your moaning sounds like whatever animal you choose. If you want, you can have a plug inserted into your mouth that resonates and amplifies your voice, like a harmonica, making it so that all you can do is moo like a cow or oink like a pig or quack like a duck, and you're helpless to resist, and you have to be led around on all fours like an animal, and you have to eat and drink from a dish on the floor. The FreakPets are not just for sex, they're also a form of humiliation and punishment, a way for men to turn their women into their slaves, to take away all their dignity, to turn them into helpless, docile, and obedient animals." Barbie paused, as if to consider whether she'd explained it well enough. "Would you like to see an animal suit in action?"

Samantha nodded, and Barbie led them over to another corner of the room where there were several display cases, and pointed at a white rubber cat girl curled up in a kennel. "Here's Mittens, our resident kitty."

The rubber catgirl was sleeping, her eyes closed, her body covered with white rubber that was molded to fit snugly against her figure. Her mask had little plastic kitty ears and a molded nose, whiskers, and catlike mouth. It had cute cartoon eyes with only tiny holes in the center to allow vision, completely hiding the girl's facial expression behind a cartoon cat grin. Her hands were balled into fists, encased in tight white rubber mittens with little pink paw prints on the bottom. She had a long rubber cat tail extending from her ass, and Samantha wondered whether there was a buttplug at its end or if it just attached to the suit from the outside.

Barbie banged on the cage, and the rubber cat girl awoke with a start, her cartoon eyes open, looking confused. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a high-pitched, kazoo-like meow, as the air reverberated in a small chamber inside the cat's mouth.

"Come on, Mittens," coaxed Barbie. "Let's show Ms. Steele here how much of a sweet, cute kitty you can be."

"Meow," said Mittens. Her eyes blinked slowly. "Mew." Her cartoon mouth was grinning, the drawn-on eyes gleaming, and Samantha had no idea what her face really said underneath that frozen expression.

Barbie opened the cage and led Mittens out by her leash, Mittens crawling on her rubber mittens and footpads, her rubberized body shaking.

"Mittens, say hi to our guest," ordered Barbie.

Mittens mewed, and crawled over to Samantha. She rubbed her rubber face against Samantha's legs, purring like a kitten, and rubbing herself against her. Her tail wobbled. Samantha felt a strange mixture of emotions, pity and arousal. The suit was degrading and humiliating. Mittens looked so pathetic. But she was so helpless. She couldn't talk, couldn't do anything but crawl, mew, and purr.

"Mittens is very happy, she's always so playful," said Barbie.

Samantha looked down at her, feeling the warm, latex body against her. It felt so soft, so nice, and yet so helpless, and she couldn't stop herself from stroking Mittens' plastic ears.

"She's so cute!" said Carol, bending down to pet Mittens along her rubber back, "but this looks so scary. I hope Master Dominic doesn't put me in a FreakPet suit…"

"Oh, I doubt he will, but it's certainly possible. You're his to mold as he pleases, and he might want to make you a piggy or a duck or something, and make you crawl on all fours and moo like a cow or oink like a pig. It's not uncommon for disobedient and unruly women to be subjected to animal transformation to teach them obedience. You just have to ask yourself: have I been a good girl? Does my Master think I need more training?"

Carol shuddered and whimpered. "I think I'd like to be a puppy," said Carol, "they're cute and friendly, and everyone likes puppies, and puppies get lots of cuddles."

"Maybe you could be my puppy," said Samantha, "you'd be so cute as a puppy, all dressed up in latex."

"I would, wouldn't I?" said Carol, blushing. She giggled, and her eyes twinkled.

"Maybe you should try on a FreakPets outfit, and I could be your master. But first, let's get you into something less animalistic and a little more…human. Which suit would you choose, if you could, Carol?" Samantha felt good about giving Carol a choice. She fancied herself a kind mistress, and she hoped Carol would appreciate it.

"Oh, I don't know…" Carol blushed, looking at all the dollsuits, her eyes moving from one to the other. She pointed to a blue dress on a shelf. "This one…the Alice suit. I always liked that story as a girl."

Samantha smiled, and led her to the suit.

"Alice is a wonderful choice," said Barbie, "this one doesn't have a realmouth attachment, though, it's just got a built in mouthplug."

"A realmouth? What's that?" asked Samantha as Barbie took the Alice suit off the rack. "It sounds…freaky."

"It's like a mouthplug, but thinner, flexible, and with a functional tongue. Sort of like a garble, there's a latex sheath for the tongue, and a sub can move their rubber lips and the rubber mouthguards open and close. You still can't talk, but it makes for a more realistic doll, and many Masters appreciate the…oral availability, if you will." Carol removed her white dress and slid into the Alice suit. The suit's sleeves ended in fingerless mitts like the ones on Mittens, but without paw prints. The blue dress on the suit was cute and frilly.

"Open up," said Barbie after she zipped the suit up to Carol's neck, and she complied. Barbie slid the silicone mouthplug into Carol's mouth, then zipped up the hood, stretching the latex over her face and adjusting the attached blonde wig so it sat right on Carol's scalp.

Barbie turned to Samantha.

"I have some great ideas for you," she smiled, "you should try this one."

Samantha was shown a white, rubber suit with a red mouth and long blonde hair.

"This suit is a favorite of the stars. It's the 'Norma Jeane', a suit that turns a girl into Marilyn Monroe. The white dress on the front is a replica of the dress Marilyn wore in The Seven Year Itch. The hair, of course, is just like Marilyn's, and the rubber mask has her face, but it also has a newmouth insert so you can make cute little expressions, even lick or kiss your Master if he commands. Would you like to try it, Ms. Steele?"

Samantha looked at Carol's cute cartoon lips and eyes, her smooth, transformed Alice face, and felt a shudder creep along her spine.

"What do you think, Carol? Is it comfortable? Would I like it?"

Carol nodded. Her eyes shone in the light, and she smiled, but the mask remained expressionless except for a slight twitch in its pink, smooth rubber lips. "Mmm-hmm, mm-hmm!" she chirped wordlessly, utterly silenced by her mouthplug and the latex mask.

"It does look very…interesting," admitted Samantha. It would be a new experience, and she'd always loved trying new things, but it was also frightening. "I'm not sure if I could wear that," she said. She looked down at the dress. It was so tight and clingy, it seemed to hug every inch of her body. She imagined herself wearing it, walking around. The idea made her feel vulnerable and helpless, and her nipples hardened. Her heart raced.

"It's perfect for a woman of your stature. You'd be a celebrity in the eyes of everyone you pass, and I don't just mean from the attention the suit gets. People would see the way you carry yourself, your posture, the way you walk, and they'd see the confidence and grace of Marilyn Monroe."

Samantha smiled, imagining how that would make her feel. She was used to having to work for attention. But in the Marilyn suit, she would be a celebrity.

Barbie took her hand. "Come on, let's get you suited up," she said, "it'll be fun, and I guarantee you'll like it. I have a lot of fun in mind for you and your little Alice."

She led Samantha to a changing booth, bringing Carol in tow, and holding the Norma Jean suit in one hand and a strange plastic egg in the other.

"Now, the Norma Jean suit, same as the Alice suit, is not equipped with orifice sheaths," said Barbie, "so if you want anything inside you, or your sub, you want to stick that in first, then zip the suit closed over it. Have you ever used a vibroshock egg, Ms. Steele?"

"No, what is it?" asked Samantha, as Barbie held the plastic egg in front of her. "I'm afraid I don't know much about this stuff."

"It's a wonderful toy," explained Barbie, "this egg-shaped device has three main functions. One is as an internal vibrator, it buzzes when turned on. Two is as a tracking device, the wearer can be tracked from anywhere in the world."

"And three, is it a punishment device? It looks like it could deliver electric shocks to the wearer." asked Samantha. "Like…shock collars for dogs?"

"Very observant," smiled Barbie. "Yes, it does. The shock function can deliver mild electric shocks, and it can be set to deliver these shocks on command, on a timer, or in response to the wearer attempting to move beyond a pre-defined location. For example, a slave might be placed in a room with an egg in her ass and her pussy, and told she will be punished if she leaves. She can't take them out, because the latex holds the eggs firmly inside her. The device will shock her in both holes if she steps outside. The shocks aren't painful, just very uncomfortable. It's more of a training tool than a punishment tool, to be honest. At least, at lower voltage settings. If you're really bad, or your master's a bit of a sadist, things can get really intense."

Samantha blushed, thinking of all the kinky and perverted uses this device could be put to. It would be humiliating, and arousing. Her nipples hardened. She'd love to use this device on Carol. Or maybe, have it used on her…

"Can I use it on myself? Is there a remote control or something?" asked Samantha.

"You can, yes, it's controlled by a smartphone app. Hand me your phone and I'll download it while you undress." Samantha complied. Barbie handed her the vibroshock egg, along with her phone, once she was completely naked.

"Go ahead and try it out before we seal the suit over it," suggested Barbie.

Samantha held the egg in one hand and the phone in the other. It took a minute for her to figure out the interface of the app. There was an on/off button, and three dials that seemed to control different things: one was labeled 'vibrate', one 'shock', and one 'track'. There was an option to 'lock location,' something called 'hot-cold mode,' and an option to sync the device with a shock collar or with other vibroshock eggs nearby.

She tried the vibrate function, feeling little pulses from the egg that grew more frequent and more intense as she dialed it up. Gritting her teeth, she tried a shock at level 3. There were 10 levels.

Her hand jerked and she grunted, but it didn't hurt, exactly. It just contracted her muscles and raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Wow, that's really something," Samantha murmured, "Carol, have you tried one of these before? Woman-to-woman, should I try this out? Maybe at home, later, over some wine?" she blushed at discussing her private masturbatory habits, "I don't really have any toys, but there's a first for everything right?"

"Mmmm-hmm!" said Carol. Samantha thought she could hear an excited moan in that, or perhaps it was just her imagination. But there was no doubt about the excited glaze in Carol's eyes.

"Okay, well, here goes," Samantha gently slid the egg inside her pussy. Her finger hesitated over the button, and she bit her lip as she turned the vibration function on. The egg started buzzing, sending waves of pleasure through her body, and making her pussy quiver and clench.

"Wow, that's…that's nice…" Samantha moaned. Her nipples were hard and her breasts were swollen. The vibrations were gentle, and she could feel the egg's smooth surface against her pussy. Her thighs clenched. She turned the dial on the phone, and the egg buzzed stronger and faster. It was almost overwhelming, but in a good way.

"Oh my God!" Samantha moaned. Her knees buckled and she grabbed onto the counter for support, her body trembling. She felt a surge of heat between her legs, and she could feel her wetness seeping onto her thighs. Her head swam and her vision blurred.

"Easy now," said Barbie, taking the phone from Samantha and turning the vibe off, "let's get you into that suit, and save the fun for Marilyn."

She helped Samantha into the latex suit. Samantha was amazed at how it molded itself to her body. She could feel her skin sliding over the inside of the suit, the latex clinging to every inch of her flesh, molding to her body. It had fully formed latex gloves with pretty red false nails at the fingertips, a stark contrast to the Alice suit's fingerless latex mittens.

Barbie zipped the suit up to the neck, every inch of it tightening snugly against Samantha's skin. She gently rubbed the smooth latex over her crotch, feeling the silicone egg trapped deep inside of her.

"Now open wide for the newmouth," cooed Barbie, and Samantha complied. A mass of soft molded rubber filled her mouth, her teeth settling into squishy, yielding rubber mouthguards and her tongue sliding into a flexible latex sheath. Her lips strained to close around the insert, and when they did they slid perfectly against the parted latex lips of the mask. She felt the hood stretch over her entire face, plunging her into darkness until the tiny eyeholes in Marilyn's pupils aligned with her eyes. She felt the zipper close, squeezing her face tightly into the hood, and felt Barbie tousle the blonde hair of the attached wig.

She looked at herself in a mirror and was stunned. She was no longer the woman she was, no longer Samantha. She was a beautiful, blonde doll, with huge eyes and full red lips. She looked like an exquisite, high end sex doll modeled after Marilyn Monroe, her childhood hero from the days she dreamed of being a model.

"How do you like it?" asked Barbie. She led Samantha and Carol to the floor mirror.

"Mmmmph, mmm-hmmm! MMmmuuummmph," said Samantha, working her lips and jaw around a mouthful of latex. She could move her lips, her tongue, and open and close her teeth, but the rubber fought her, squeaking and sliding numbly inside her mouth. It was a bizarre sensation. With the newmouth in it almost felt like she should be able to speak, but the thick mouthguards and her tongue's tight sheathing in a squishy rubber sleeve made it impossible.

"I'm glad you like it," said Barbie, smiling. She led them out of the changing room and back into the main store.

Samantha saw her own reflection in a mirror, and she almost didn't recognize herself. The blonde wig and red lipstick were a stunning combination. The mask even had a mole, Marilyn's trademark, on its cheek. No one would recognize her like this, they'd just see a sex object, an uncanny recreation of one of the most famous women in history. The suit even came with the famous dress she'd worn, standing over a sidewalk vent in New York city as the updraft lifted her skirts.

Samantha did a twirl, and the dress floated up around her waist, exposing her smooth latex-covered crotch briefly before it settled against her thighs.

"Hmm-hmm! Hmhmhmhm…" Samantha giggled into her mouthful of rubber.

"You're going to have fun with that suit," said Barbie.

Samantha grinned, looking at her new reflection in the mirror. Her heart raced. The thought of wearing this outfit out of the shop, walking around in public in the Marilyn Monroe latex doll suit, wearing a rubber mask of an iconic sex symbol, was a huge thrill. Her nipples were hard under the rubber.

"Hmm-hmm, hmhm," she moaned.

"I can tell you're enjoying yourself," said Barbie.

"Hmmm, hmmhmm, hmhmmmhmmm," Samantha said, her lips moving, her eyes gleaming. She looked so sexy. The Marilyn mask and the Alice mask were both exquisite. Barbie's skill with latex was unparalleled. She wished she could just keep her face like this. The world didn't need to know what was under the mask. This is how she'd be, a sex doll for men to fuck, to play with, to worship and adore.

"Now let's show you what that vibroshock egg can really do," said Barbie with a wicked grin, "we're going to play a game of 'hot and cold.' I want you to find the spot in the store I want you to move to. If you move in the right direction," Samantha felt a gentle buzz in her pussy, "I'll vibrate you. But if you move in the wrong direction," Samantha yelped, muffled by her realmouth, as a shock emanated from deep inside her, contracting her abs and her vaginal muscles intensely, "you'll get a shock. Once you're in place, I'll lock your location. You'll automatically be shocked if you move even a few feet away, and it'll continue until you're back in place. Ready, set, go!"

Samantha was horrified, chewing nervously on her gag as she contemplated where to go. She took a step forward, and received a shock.

"Hmhmhmmhmmm…" Samantha moaned.

"Okay, let's start with something easy, turn around, that's it," Barbie encouraged. She was using Samantha's phone, watching her with an evil glint in her eyes.

The shocks were not painful, but they were annoying, and humiliating, and she had to struggle not to cry out. She didn't want to look like a wimp in front of the other women, especially not her friend Carol, who looked on in concern. She couldn't stop herself from moaning as the shocks made her muscles twitch. They made her clench her teeth and bite down hard on the mouthguards.

Barbie led her through the store with shocks and vibratory pleasure. She was forced to step around mannequins and duck down under tables to get where Barbie was directing her. Barbie seemed to be having great fun watching her struggle to find her place, and she would laugh when Samantha would take a step and receive a shock.

Samantha was starting to think Barbie was going to keep her running around forever when suddenly, the vibrations intensified and became more frequent, almost constant. She was going in the right direction…but where was Barbie taking her?

It only dawned on Samantha that the vibrations were leading her to a kennel when it was too late. The door of the cage was open and inviting, and she crawled in. The cage was small and the door swung shut and locked behind her, trapping her inside.

"There, now you're right where you belong," said Barbie, smiling at Samantha from outside her cage, "Mittens here will keep you company." The white rubber catgirl looked up from where she was sitting curled up in the corner of her cage, a cartoonish grin frozen on her rubber face.

Barbie looked down at the phone in her hands, tapping away on the screen. Samantha felt her pussy egg go into high gear. Barbie's thumb tapped on the phone and Samantha felt another shock. Her muscles tensed and she gasped in pain. Then, Barbie turned a knob and the buzzing grew louder and stronger, making her moan.

Barbie looked at her phone. "I have synced your vibroshock to the one in Mittens' pussy and the one in Mittens' ass," she said, turning the knob up again. Samantha felt another buzz, then another. Her nipples were hard. She was so wet and she felt so good. Mittens rolled around in her cage, purring and mewling in her kazoo-like voice. Samantha was moaning as the egg buzzed her into a frenzy. She felt an intense orgasm building, then it exploded and her body shuddered and jerked. She heard Mittens mewling, and knew the rubberized girl was feeling the same thing she was.

The vibrations slowed, and stopped. Barbie was grinning down at Samantha, looking at the phone. "That was fun, wasn't it?" asked Barbie.

"MMMPH! HMMPH-MMM!" Samantha fumbled with the latch on her cage, and it slid open. Thank God Barbie hadn't locked it. She crawled slowly from the cage but when she was finally free, she felt a shock in her pussy, causing her to moan and grab the cage for support. Barbie had turned the egg back on.

But Barbie wasn't even looking at her, she was greeting a customer at the top of the spiral staircase. Was she being shocked automatically? She remembered seeing the location lock option on her phone, and she realized she was trapped. If she left the kennel, the GPS tracker would know she'd moved, and she'd be shocked.

Her body contracted and pain spread throughout her. The shocks were getting worse. Overwhelmed, humiliated, and outraged, Samantha begrudgingly opened the kennel door and crawled back inside. The shocks stopped and she felt three quick pulses of vibration. The egg was letting her know she was in her place.

"Always good to see you, Masters Dominic and Sean," burbled Barbie. A jolt went through Samantha's heart. She didn't want to be seen like this, so degraded and caged, by these men she respected. Men she wanted to work with. Oh God, oh God, oh God, what was she going to do?

"Likewise, Barbie," said Sean's voice.

"Too bad I missed Ms. Steele," said Dominic, and Samantha's ears pricked up. He had wanted to see her? "I wanted to introduce her to Sean, thought they might like to talk policy, maybe arrange a playdate for Sammy and Chloe."

Sammy? Samantha shuddered. He had a pet name for her. Dominic must really like her.

"Oh yes, Samantha's long gone," said Barbie, "but we've got a celebrity in the house, if you can believe it. How would you gentlemen like to meet Marilyn Monroe?" The men chuckled, and Samantha's ears pricked up again. Was she talking about Samantha in her Marilyn suit?

"We've got her in a kennel over there, why don't you say hello?"

"Can't pass up a chance to say hi to a classic bombshell," chuckled Sean. Samantha heard the two men approach her cage, and she whimpered softly. This was going to be so humiliating. But then…if Barbie didn't tell them, they might not figure out it was her. She'd have to play along.

Barbie tapped a button on Samantha's phone, and said, "come on out, Marilyn, I've unlocked your location. Sean here is a bigwig politician, come November he may be chief of staff. He might not be JFK, but how about you sing him happy birthday anyway?"

"MMM! Mm-mmph, mmmhmm," said Samantha, shaking her head and crawling backward in the cage, her eyes pleading with Barbie not to make her go out there in front of those men.

"You'll get a shock for every minute you spend hiding, and it's going to be more painful with every shock. Now, get out there," demanded Barbie, holding Samantha's phone up. Samantha felt a wave of anger, but she knew Barbie was serious. Barbie would shock her, she'd already been shocked.

She crawled out, her body shivering. She was shaking, and her knees were weak.

"Look who we have here, boys!" Barbie cooed, "It's Marilyn Monroe herself! I hope you're not too shy to give Sean a show, Marilyn." Samantha blushed, and looked down. She could feel the men staring at her. "Come on now, stand up, and show us a twirl!" ordered Barbie. Samantha did as she was told. She stood up slowly, and twirled around. The dress billowed around her, exposing her smooth, latex-sheathed body.

"Wow," breathed Sean, "that's incredible!"

"You're gorgeous!" breathed Dominic.

Samantha was thrilled, and a little embarrassed, by the attention she was getting.

"Now, let's see you give Mr. Sean here a birthday kiss," suggested Barbie. Samantha looked at the man in shock. Sean was young, probably in his early 40s, and handsome, with dark eyes, black hair, and a strong jaw. She could feel herself blushing as she looked at him. He was wearing a gray suit and had a golden badge pinned to his chest. It had a red triangle in the middle.

"Go ahead, Marilyn. Don't be shy," urged Barbie, "just give Sean a little peck on the cheek."

Samantha hesitated. This was so strange. She wasn't supposed to be kissing strangers. But then she felt the vibration of the egg in her pussy. Her eyes closed and she felt the vibrations increase, the sensation spreading throughout her body.

She looked up at Sean and moved in closer. He was grinning, his eyes fixed on her lips. She could smell his aftershave.

Samantha's eyes darted from side to side. She felt so humiliated, so vulnerable. But it was also strangely exciting. She felt a rush of heat between her legs, and she was wet.

"Go on," urged Barbie, "give him a kiss. Just a peck. And maybe a nice little rub against him, you know what we like. Show him what a good little girl Marilyn Monroe can be."

Samantha blushed, but moved in even closer. Her body pressed up against Sean's. He was much taller than her, so she had to crane her neck upward. She looked into his eyes. He was smiling.

"Mmmm," said Samantha, as she pressed her rubber lips to his cheek. She could feel his stubble through her mask, and his breath on her face. He smelled like cigarettes. She lingered for a second, and then pulled away.

"That's it, that's good, just a quick peck," cooed Barbie, "now, let's do Mr. Dominic, too, since you were such a tease earlier."

"Mmmmph, mmmm!" said Samantha. She was humiliated. She had never been this vulnerable before. She had never felt so degraded, but it was strangely thrilling. She had always been in charge. Now, she was the toy. She was the object.

She turned to face Master Dominic. She could feel his eyes roaming over her body. He looked so strong, so masculine. She wanted him. She wanted to please him, to obey him, to serve him. She had no choice, and she didn't want to resist.

She leaned in and gave him a kiss. She lingered longer on his cheek, breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth of his skin. Her nipples were so hard. Her pussy was wet. Her heart was pounding. She felt like she was in heat.

She broke away, and the men applauded. Samantha looked down in shame and excitement.

"Well done, Ms. Monroe, you've made some powerful new friends," said Barbie, "Now give future chief-of-staff Sean a happy birthday song, won't you?"

"Oh man, this is too good, I'll have to record it," said Sean, a lecherous grin on his face, and he pulled out his phone, pointing it at Samantha. Pointing it at a rubberized Marilyn Monroe doll. "I'll have to show it to Senator Blume, remind him why we're putting in all this work. Go on, Marilyn, sing for me!"

Barbie tapped the shock dial on the app a little, and the egg in Samantha's pussy gave her a warning shock, just a small, jolting one, to remind her that Barbie had her under her control.

"Mm-mmmmph, mmmhmmm-hm-hmmm, mmmmph, mmmmph," began Samantha, her realmouth trying to shape the words, but all that emerged were moans and mumbles, and Samantha blushed bright red as the shock intensified and she was forced to keep going. It felt so wrong, to be performing for the amusement of men she barely knew. To be humiliating herself in public like this. She was moaning and mumbling incoherently. Her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were flushed. Her nipples were rock hard.

"Mmmmmph, mm-mmph, mm-mm-mm, mmmm-mmm-mmm, mmmhmm-mmmhmmm-mmhmmm-mm-mmm-mm, mmhmmm-mmmm-mm-mmhmm, mmm-mmmmmhmmm-mmm-mm-mm-mm, mmhmm-mmhmmm-mmmhmmmm, mm-mmhmmm-mmhmmm-mmm-mm, mmhmm-mmm-mm-mmmm-mmm, mmhmmm-mmhmm-mmm, mmmm-mmmm-mm-mmmm-mmmmhmmm," all she could do was hum, but she tried obidiently to move her lips with the words of the song. It was inelegant, humiliating, inarticulate. This wasn't how Marilyn had felt when she sang for JFK, Samantha thought. She wanted to cry.

The song was a blur. The egg in her pussy vibrated and buzzed. She felt a rush of pleasure. She wanted to stop, to crawl away, but Barbie had her in the palm of her hand. She was powerless.

"Mmm-mm, mmm-mm," she finished. The vibration stopped. Sean clapped.

"Wonderful! Beautiful! What an honor to meet you, Ms. Monroe." Sean leaned down to stroke the top of Samantha's mask, the smooth, latex skin. Samantha felt her skin tingling beneath the rubber. She had no idea how she'd gotten here, from her childhood dreams of stardom, to her rise as an adult to fame and success, to her standing before this powerful politician in a sex doll suit and mask. She felt like a fool. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was whimper and moan, and beg with her eyes.

Sean's phone camera clicked, capturing the moment, the humiliation of a rubberized, silenced Marilyn. He tapped out a few lines and sent the picture. "Now Senator Blume has some encouragement," he smiled, "maybe he'll pick up the pace."

Dominic looked down at his phone, and his eyebrows rose. He quickly tapped something out and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"Well, I have to go. But, I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you, Marilyn. You are the real deal," said Sean, and he walked off. Samantha looked down in shame, the humiliation of her public performance burning her cheeks.

"You know," said Dominic after Sean left, "Marilyn was one of the greatest sex symbols of her era. A real beauty."

Samantha nodded. She felt her cheeks flush, and she felt a rush of arousal between her legs.

"You just don't get women like that anymore, with all this leftist garbage about female empowerment. A real woman is supposed to be beautiful, sexy, submissive," continued Dominic. "I like to see women like you, who have kept to the old ways, and know their place. You remind me of a classic pinup model."

"MMMM! MMMM-HM-HMMM-HM!" moaned Samantha. She was getting very wet. Her nipples were hard. She could feel a warm, tingly feeling between her legs.

"It's too bad Samantha wasn't here to see this. Something tells me she'd have loved your performance. Take care now, Ms. Monroe."

"MMM-hm! MM!" moaned Samantha.

Dominic left.

Barbie grinned and turned the phone over to Samantha.

"There you go, Ms. Monroe. That was fun! Now why don't we get you changed, you and Carol both." Samantha's eyes darted over to where she had left her assistant. She was horrified to see her kneeling, obedient, in her doll suit, patiently awaiting her orders. Carol didn't look like Carol anymore. She was just a blank, smiling Alice face. An obedient doll for men to play with, a living toy.

Barbie led the women to the changing room. She unzipped Carol first, sliding the hood off of the woman's head.

"You know, Ms. Monroe, I think your Alice here has really been enjoying herself today," said Barbie as she unzipped the dollsuit off of Carol, revealing the woman's body, clad only in the fleshtone latex secondskin suit, her rubber nipples and sheathed, puckered orifices visible.

"It was lovely, but I'm jealous of all the attention that Ms. Steele got in her Marilyn costume," said Carol as she slipped her white dress over her latex body, covering her sensitive areas. "Maybe I could get one of my own sometime…and be a doll forever."

"Mmm, well, you'd need a man in your life, of course," said Barbie, "it's hard for a woman to make her own money in this day and age." Carol blushed and looked at her feet.

Samantha was growing impatient, and she grunted through her gag as she fumbled at the zipper at the base of her hood. Her sense was coming back to her, and she was outraged that Barbie had put her through all that. She hadn't agreed to anything but trying on the Marilyn suit and the vibroshock, and Barbie had taken it upon herself to humiliate Samantha at length.

That bitch had effectively trapped her in a gimp suit, shocked her into a cage, and made her cum alongside some freaky kitty-gimp. She'd humiliated her and made her perform for men she wanted to be respected by. And the worst part was that Samantha had slid right into her role, helplessly obeying every command. She felt so stupid.

"HHMMPH! MMPH-MMPH-MMM!" she grunted angrily, pointing sharply at her latex mouth. She felt a burning need to speak, to spit the invasive rubber out of her mouth, to speak her outrage.

"Okay, okay, don't worry, I'll get you out of there," Barbie reassured her, pulling the zipper down the hood and sliding the hood from her head. The mask came free, the mouth plug sliding from her lips.

"Barbie, that was so…intense!" moaned Samantha. "You put me in such a horrible position, I had no idea you'd do that."

Barbie smirked, and unzipped Samantha's latex suit.

"Don't be such a baby, Ms. Steele, you enjoyed it."

"That's not the point!" protested Samantha as the latex suit was removed, exposing her skin to the air. "You had no right!"

Barbie smiled, pulling the suit from Samantha's legs, and Samantha was again exposed, her crotch soaked and her juices dripping down her legs. She remembered the egg in her pussy and reached inside herself, her hand emerging with the slimy little thing, slick with her own fluids.

"I'm not sure you understand what this shop is, Ms. Steele, but you should know it's a fetish shop. Women who come in here are expected to submit to a little playtime."

"That's not what happened. You trapped me and you shocked me and you humiliated me."

"You enjoyed every minute of it, don't deny it. I could see you dripping through your suit. I could tell from the noises you made that you were loving every moment of it. You're just embarrassed to admit it. I bet you're looking forward to buying your vibroshock, putting on another doll suit, and having someone else play with you." Samantha was blushing.

"Maybe Master Dominic will buy that Marilyn suit if you ask him. Don't you see I've given you a gift here? He was all over you in that suit, and he still doesn't know who it was. Think about how excited he'd be if you told him, if you offered to put that on for him whenever he wanted, just for a chance at his affections. You'd have him in the palm of your hand."

Barbie had a point. She could see herself, crawling for Master Dominic, begging him with her eyes, her tongue encased in latex, her pussy filled by a vibrating egg, her ass plugged, her nipples clamped, and her mouth forced open.

"You'll be coming back to visit, won't you?" Barbie asked.

Samantha looked at Carol, whose cheeks were flushed and who looked aroused, and back at Barbie. She felt the lingering effects of the vibroshock in her pussy, and her heart raced at the memory.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with all these toys and the way they were used," said Samantha, and Barbie smiled, her eyes gleaming.

"Tell you what, since you were such a sport, I'll throw in a vibroshock egg and a vibroshock buttplug, on the house. Just pick out an item of clothing to buy at full price. You do have $300 to burn, after all. What do you say?"

Barbie's offer was enticing, and Samantha felt a shiver run down her spine. She was a bit afraid to take the egg home with her, to try it out, but it felt so good when Barbie was shocking and buzzing her. She felt so aroused, so vulnerable.

"Fine. I mean, I did like that egg, and don't really have any toys at home…" Samantha started putting on her clothes again and they almost felt strange against her skin. She'd really begun to get used to latex.

"Splendid! I'll meet you at the checkout counter when you're dressed. Thanks so much for your interest, Ms. Steele." Barbie turned and walked away. Carol stood there, watching her boss get dressed, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

Samantha finished getting dressed and put on her coat. She walked over to the checkout counter. Barbie was there with a package in her hand.

"Here you are," said Barbie, handing her the package, "I put in a vibroshock egg, and a matching buttplug. So what're you buying?"

"This is all so overwhelming," said Samantha, looking at the array of toys on the shelves. "What's a good choice for someone with little experience?"

"Anything on the wall. Those are our best sellers," said Barbie.

"Alright, well I'm interested in that latex thong with the built in sheath. I like the way it felt when I was wearing one, and I'd love to get a better look at it." She pointed to one on the shelf. "That's $175. Do you have it in my skin color?" she asked, and Barbie nodded.

"I do," said Barbie. "Let me go grab one." Barbie walked into the back of the shop and returned a few moments later with a flesh colored pair of panties, handing them to Samantha.

"And um…just out of curiosity," Samantha blushed and bit her lip, "how much is the Norma Jean suit?"

"I knew you liked it," giggled Barbie through a devilish smirk, "well, that's a custom order. It'd cost you about five thousand dollars to have a suit custom-made like that, and that doesn't include the hood and realmouth."

"I…wow. Well, that's not in my price range, unfortunately," said Samantha, blushing. Barbie just nodded.

"We do have lower-end, mass produced suits for as little as $1000," Barbie suggested, "and our cheapest newmouth hood is $200. It's no Marilyn Monroe, but would you like to see it?"

Samantha considered, and nodded. It wasn't like she was committing to anything, just seeing the merchandise.

Barbie led her to another section, and Samantha's jaw dropped. The section was full of mannequins wearing all manner of fetish outfits, some with masks, some without. Some wore high-heeled boots, some thigh-high boots, and others had knee-highs or ballet heels.

There were gimp masks and doll masks, bodysuits, corsets, and even an assortment of rubber lingerie. The outfits ranged from the elegant to the outrageous, from simple to elaborate.

"Over here, we have a selection of lower-end items," said Barbie, leading Samantha to a display of rubberized clothes.

"These items are mass produced in Asia, so we can offer them at a much lower price point than the custom-made items."

Samantha was amazed. There were dozens of different outfits, all with the same theme: a rubber hood or mask, a bodysuit, and some kind of orifice sheathing.

"May I?" asked Samantha, and when Barbie nodded, she ran her hands over the suits. Some of them were slick and smooth, some of them were textured. Some were thick, while others were thin. Some were glossy, while others had a matte finish.

"You have quite the collection, don't you?" asked Samantha, as she browsed the selection. There was something for everyone.

"I'm always happy to see a customer who's curious," said Barbie, smiling, "it's so rare these days. Anyway, here's the base model newmouth hood."

Barbie picked up a bag from beneath the displays and pulled out a mask of slightly yellow transparent latex. The mask had full eyeholes, so Samantha would be able to see properly. Her facial features would show through the clear latex, but the mask's lips were bright red rubber, the teeth in its mouthguards bright white, and its tongue was a saturated rubbery pink. She'd have her own face, but a rubber doll's mouth.

"This one's $250, the transparent latex is a little more expensive than black. But for a woman as beautiful as you, I think it's best to see as much of your face as possible. How about it?"

Samantha was hesitant, and looked back at the rack of custom latex dollsuits, at the beautiful Norma Jean with her long, blonde wig, and back to the bargain-bin newmouth mask in Barbie's hands.

"Let's make a deal, Barbie. You throw in this newmouth mask along with the vibroshock stuff for the cost of my gift certificate. And if you can also throw in that pair of flesh colored panties with orifice sheaths I saw on the wall over there, I'll give you a hundred in cash for them. I want to have some fun with these things before I invest thousands of dollars in this. What do you say?"

Barbie smiled and said, "you've got yourself a deal."

Samantha handed over her gift certificate and $100 in cash. She walked out of the store with a bag full of toys, a grin on her face, and her heart pounding in anticipation.

"Pleasure doing business! Hope to see you again soon, Ms. Steele. You too, Carol! Tell Master Dominic I'd be happy to lend him a dollsuit if he thinks it'll help your training!" called Barbie as the pair left the shop, down the spiral staircase.

"I'd like that," giggled Carol. "Master Dominic doesn't usually have time for me, and I've never been a latex doll for him, but I'm sure he'd love to try it. Maybe he could bring me to the next meeting with Senator Blume, or maybe Master Dominic would invite Mr. Sean along, if he had a latex gimp for his friend to play with." Her face was lit with glee at the prospect.

Michelle greeted them as they stepped up to the front desk. "Did you have a good time at Barbie's?" she chirped, looking at the pair of them. "Did she treat you right?"

"Barbie was wonderful," replied Carol, and Michelle smiled.

"I'm glad to hear that, Carol, but I was asking Ms. Steele. And why are you speaking? Master Dominic has you gagged during daylight hours, isn't that right?"

"Yes ma'am," replied Carol, looking down at the floor. "But Ms. Steele took my lipstuck off so I could model different gags for her."

Samantha didn't want Carol to get in trouble on her account so she jumped in, "that's right, I was told she was mine to do with as I wished. I'm the one who ungagged her, Carol's been nothing but obedient."

Carol nodded.

"Well alright then," Michelle conceded. "But you should know it's customary to return a sub in the condition they were given to you. I trust Brandon gave you some lipstuck samples?"

Samantha reached in her gift bag and handed the samples back to Michelle. Michelle smiled, opening one and expertly applying a generous coat to Carol's lips, turning them bright red and gluing her mouth firmly shut.

"Perfect," said Michelle. She turned her attention back to Carol, who was standing there with a blank look in her eyes, her mouth glued shut. "You are dismissed, Carol. Thank you for showing Ms. Steele around the building today, I'm glad it went well." Carol nodded, her eyes still glazed over.

It was like the girl's personality changed immediately upon being gagged. She became passive, attentive, and almost seemed to be in a trance.

Is that why Samantha had slipped so easily into doing things she never would have done before? Was there some psychological effect from being silenced that was changing her?

It didn't matter, because it was too late now. She had her own collection of toys and she wanted to play. But not tonight. Tonight, she was too exhausted, and needed some sleep before she could do any more.

"I'm exhausted," said Samantha, and Carol nodded. Samantha could tell she was exhausted too, but it was a satisfied, fulfilled, exhausted. Like she had done something she was made to do. Samantha felt like Carol was happier as a sub, as a slave. And maybe, just maybe, Samantha thought to herself, maybe she could find her own place in the world, in the new paradigm. A role to fill, a service to provide. A purpose.

Carol walked away down one of the long, maze-like hallways. Michelle cleared her throat and asked, "So Ms. Steele. How did you like your experience today? Do you plan to establish a relationship with the company?"

"It was…different," admitted Samantha. "I think I'd be very interested in learning more about this lifestyle. It's so new, I feel like I'd have to immerse myself in it to really get a sense of what's happening. But today was very educational."

"Well, I have good news for you," said Michelle with a smile. She handed over a card. "It's an orientation program for new subs, the one I took. I think you might find it useful, since you're interested in learning more. If you're accepted to the orientation, your sponsor is expected to cover the cost of your tuition. You can read the trainer profiles on our website and request a sponsor from whoever suits you. I'm sure they'd all be eager to train THE Samantha Steele."

"Actually," Samantha said hesitantly, "I don't need the website. I already have a request." She was blushing. "Could you have Master Dominic sponsor me for orientation? I'd like to learn more from him."

"Oh! Well, that can be arranged!" said Michelle, clearly shocked at the suggestion. "I'll put your name on a list and he'll receive the message. You can go home, and I'll pencil you in for a week-long orientation. It starts in three days, and you'll need to have your affairs in order as you'll be staying here for the duration."

Samantha felt a chill down her spine, but it wasn't fear, it was excitement. This would be an amazing experience, she knew.