From: kymner@aol.com (Kymner)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: A gimp story -- TG, domination, etc
Date: 8 Jul 1995 09:28:47 -0400

He pulled back, spent, satisfied.  The therapy room around him was
institutional, cement brick with a cold stainless steel table dominating
the space.  She laid in the stirrups, softly moaning.  He looked at her
empty eyes in the midst of the beautiful skin and wondered what she
thought, if she thought at all.  She had been in institutions for most of
her life, unable to communicate or even control her body very much.

He liked to believe that he was being generous and loving while exercising
his "droit de signeur," right of the king, with the patients under his
care.  Who knew?  Maybe they actually felt warmth and love when he mounted
them, took them for his pleasure.  He was sure that at least some of them
had orgasm, and no one could have orgasm if they were upset or
uncomfortable.

He started to zip his fly when he heard the door open behind him.  A large
arm circled his head, and he felt the sting of a needle being driven deep
into his buttocks...

--------------------------------------------------

He began to regain consciousness, but as he tried to move his body, he
felt the restraints.  He opened his eyes to see a hospital room around
him, and a woman in white standing over him.

"Welcome back.  Don't move too quickly.  You've been in an artificially
induced coma for well over a month now.  We needed some time to make some
... modifications," she said.

He tried to speak, but only gurgles came out.  "Yes.  Your voice is gone. 
Do you remember what you were doing just before we got to you?" she asked.
 "Oh, that's right.  Your motor control is not what it used to be.  We
altered that too.

"Let me remind you.  You were raping one of the patients under your care. 
You were forcing yourself on a defenseless woman.  This wasn't the first
time.  We know that well.  We know why you moved from place to place, why
people covered up the scandal of your rapes, allowing you to continue.

"It's all over now.  It was simple to get enough medical staff to agree
that you should get a taste of your own kind of care.  We have the
technology to alter you -- sowe did it."

She brought out a mirror.  "Take a look.  Do you see her in there?"

He did.  He saw a young woman, in the mirror, hairless and pretty. She
tore back the covers, and as she moved the mirror, he saw breasts and hips
along with his own male organ.

"You were, in your own way, an interesting experiment.  There were people
who argued that you should be awake for the surgeries, get to feel the
pain, but we wanted to keep you alive.  It's nice work too, even if it
wasn't done by certified doctors.  We chose to use injectable silicone to
make your hips and breasts, but we kept massaging it to make it soft and
pliable.  Sure, there is a risk that it will move and kill you early, but
that is a risk we had to take.

"A scalp reduction and hair grafts took very well, and the dermatological
resident was thrilled at the chance to try out the new laser hair removal
-- maybe a little too thrilled, as you don't even have much pubic hair
left.

"The plastic surgeon, without having to worry what you wanted and without
any fear of malpractice suits, took the opportunity to experiment.  Look
in the mirror!  What a cute little nose, and those cheekbone implants!  I
wish I looked that good.

"We reshaped and remolded your outside.  And we broke a few things inside.
 You aren't able to speak any more, and your motor control is severely
impaired.  You'll need a wheel chair, and probably spend the rest of your
life in diapers.

"Have you figured it out yet?  I suspect you have.  Your brain still
works, even though you don't have enough control to do anything about it. 
We have turned you into one of the girls that were your victims. 
Voluptuous, beautiful and totally helpless.

"Let's try a little experiment."  

He rocked in the restraints, tried to make noise, but all that came out
was a soft moan.  She pulled out a giant lubricated phallus, and began to
probe inside.  She took an ice cube out of the pitcher by the bed and
started to rub it around the large aureole.

He realized that he was becoming erect, that the stimulation was arousing
him.  He screamed "NO! NO! NO!, but no voice came out.  His own body -- or
what was now his body -- was betraying him.  He felt powerless and ashamed
as he felt his pelvis start to thrust, and just as he was about to come,
she dumped the entire pitcher of ice water over his groin.  He pulled
against the restraints and sobbed in pain.

"There will be plenty of time for that later.  You see, we have arranged a
foster care home for you.  He's a very nice man who specifically requested
a young girl.  He's very excited about you -- and your special gifts."

He heard her heels leave the room.  He looked at the ceiling, and thought
about his life.  He realized that he would have plenty of time to think
from now on....

---------------------------------------------------

She lay on the floor, in a pool of her own excrement.  The room was dark,
and while she could crawl around, she knew the door was locked.

The footsteps came down the hall, and the door opened.

"Sally!  Bad Girl!  How many times have I told you not to poop in here! 
I'm going to have to punish you again," he said.

She felt her body sag as he threw her over his shoulder.  The weight of
her breasts pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.  He
dropped her in the shower, and the cold water hit her like a bolt of
electricity.  Once she had almost drowned when the water hit her face, but
she woke up with him over her, breathing life into her, and feeling the
hardness of him against her belly.

"It's a special night, tonight.  We are going to a party!  You need to
look pretty tonight!" he crooned.  

She knew what that meant.  He would take her to the bedroom and dress her
in outfits he bought from Fredericks of Hollywood, so tight that her
breast were almost uncovered.  Even without walking, she knew that the
strap on heels would cramp her calves, and he would spear her face with
horrible makeup.  He liked to dress her like that, no matter how cold it
was, and take her in the subway to one of his friends "parties."

It would be a little apartment with a bunch of guys, gimp fanciers,
reeking of beer and cigarettes, and he would take her into the bedroom and
start collecting twenties from the crowd.  Who knew what they wanted to do
to this helpless woman, still male between the legs?  She knew that every
orifice in her body would be filled, that it would be another night of
hell.

Anything could happen.  One night one of the guys vomited on her and fell
asleep, and she lay in his vomit, his limp body across her chest, almost
suffocating her.

She thought back to the days when she was he, full of power, striding down
the hall in a wool flannel suit, everybody in terror.  King of the domain,
with all the rights and privileges.  But he had been too demanding, to
unthinking, and his privileges were taken away.

What would happen when she wasn't pretty enough anymore, when he got
bored?  She had heard other guys offer to buy her, like she was some piece
of chattel.  She wanted to cry out and she tried...

The man on top of her smiled.  'Oh, you like that baby?  There's plenty
more where that came from."

--Fin--