slavescotty: The Doll House, Part 4 - by croft Part 4 “Serving trays must not waver. You have
slavescotty: The Doll House, Part 4 - by croft Part 4 “Serving trays must not waver. You have been warned.” *BZZT* “Mmmphh!” Five seconds of mind-shattering orgasm was enough to make her waver and nearly collapse, the rattling of glass and liquid sloshing atop her back. The shaking settled quickly as she steadied herself, fearful for the penalty of failure. “You have 35 minutes 46 seconds left as a serving tray. Do not move again.” Grueling is a way to describe most forms of torture. It’s adequate in personifying just how miserable people can be made. In the way that it is demanding, tiring, exhausting, that’s how torture can be grueling. It is not adequate for this ‘training’ though, it is not nearly a strong enough term to define just how much concentration and dedication the poor dolls must have to endure. 35 minutes left, which means when she started it was…25 minutes ago? Getting so hard to concentrate, harder still to remember. Everything blurs together, so much effort needed to just stay perfectly still. She wished she could know when they were coming, the eruptions of buzzing from deep within her body that threatened to shake her precious cargo off her back. She was a serving tray, a sterling silver ornate tray strapped to her back forced her perfectly still. Really she was less a tray, and more a coffee table that was finding it hard to remember being a human. A whiskey sour on the rocks, prepared by her male doll counterpart and filled to the brim in a rocks glass swished and threatened to spill on the tray on her back. A skewered olive already fell from the drink’s rim and rolled about on the sterling tray. Her whole ordeal was to endure being a serving tray until the timer counted out. She’d already watched silently as her male counterpart went through the exact same training period a half hour ago, as he had spent an hour as a serving tray for the martini she’d been instructed to mix. She had then been ordered to stand perfectly still for what felt like forever, then dumbfounded as he was a serving tray at her feet. For that hour her painfully arched feet hurt, her body felt stiff, and she desperately wanted to drink the martini she’d been ordered by the autonomous voice in her suit to make. She wanted to drink anything really, but a stiff drink would have helped deal with the overwhelming ordeal they’d both awoken into less than a few hours ago. Still though, that sufferable hour seemed like heaven compared to the stress of holding perfectly still now, balancing a whisky drink and being stimulated intermittently, her whole concentration being shattered by - *BZZT* “Mmmmph!” Her body exploded from deep within her loins by the eruption of buzzing. Pleasure was what she wished she could call it. Pleasure was what sex brought, pleasure was always concentrated between her legs, but this was far stronger. It was everywhere, it was her whole body. The entirety of her rubbery black form was what felt the pleasure she was forced to endure, and it was too much. 1 second.2 seconds .3 seconds.4 - Hold it together. Keep still. It never lasts longer than 5 seconds. 5.6.7.8. Noooooo why is it still going on. 9.10.11.12. Can’t…keep…straight. Legs are turning into jell- *CRASH!* The whiskey dripped down the glossy black skin of the rubber suit and the glass cracked on the now staining carpet. “You have failed to keep still, and further still you’ve broken a serving glass. This training session has failed. Prepare to be taken to punishment.” “Mppoh! Mppppoh!” She collapsed on the floor and began the longest most sufferable whine that could be emitted from the obscuring facial mask. The pleasure she just had wished would stop was replaced with a mind-searing numbing pain, her joints locking up in a fetal position. As soon as she was balled up the pain subsided, but every small change in position erupted another jolt of suffering. Just stay perfectly still, she thought. Just stay perfectly still, and you won’t suffer, that’s all her weary mind could think. She just wished it would all be over, and she could wake up at home comfy on the couch, drinking a whisky…the glass. It was cracked, if she could get a chip of it, she could cut the suit and… “Mmmpppph!” Every second was pain, but she had to move quickly. Her male doll counterpart was already collecting her body, and she could only assume he was being instructed to move her somewhere. Grab the glass, use the pain the suit’s making you feel, crush it, crack it, *SNAP* The glass snapped just a sliver, and she quickly palmed the sliver and returned to her fetal position. Her only thought now, no matter what kind of painful punishment was in store for her…escape. www.furaffinity.net/view/23454… -- source link