CONTENT WARNING: NEEDLES
There is a wonderfully calming serenity about the silence of self-bondage. Once all the meticulous planning and re-planning, the tying, the partial untying because you forget to do something, the adjustment, and all the other mental and physical work has been completed, then it is time to relax and enjoy the bonds. Being held still, with no noises around you – besides any that you were able to make – and nobody else in the room to disturb you, often bring an almost meditative state of mind.
At least, that’s what Katy usually thought when she had just finished tying herself up and was mentally and physically preparing herself for the ordeal that lay ahead. This time, however, things were a bit different. No, they were a lot different, actually, because this time, depending on how things went, she may undergo an experience that would change her life, irreversibly and dramatically.
As a highly talented and well respected engineer, Katy was not short of either intelligence or people to govern. Having breezed through her education with consistent top marks, she found no trouble in landing one high-paying job after another, until she had climbed the ranks to become the lead engineer for one of the most recognized businesses in the country.
However, there was one thought, one desire, that has niggled away at her since her teenage years. This thought continued to grow and evolve as she grow older until now, in her early 30’s, it consumed her to the point that she was forcing herself to do something about it.
She couldn’t admit this thought to anyone else – well, aside from her best friend Tony, but we’ll come back to him later – but Katy was desperately curious about leading a life as a dumb bimbo. No more high-paying jobs, no more people to look down upon, nothing more than an object of other people’s sexual desire, with no responsibility nor rights to do anything but sit these strangers, and make them happy.
The problem was, the magnitude and nature of this lifestyle change was huge, more than significant enough that she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it willingly. There was always that one pesky thought in the back of her head asking why she wanted to throw the highly successful life she had away, and if it was worth it. The solution to this problem, Katy spent several months considering, came in the form of one of her favourite pastimes – self-bondage.
Katy had a love of bondage that dated back to before she realized it could be a sexual activity. However, a string of unpleasant encounters with men, coupled with her talents as an engineer, means that most of her recent – and very successful, she would proudly admit – experiences came from tying and torturing herself.
That is why she found herself restrained, alone, in her own living room, with an elaborate system of various elements that could help transform her into the bimbo she secretly craved to be, waiting to dotheir thing.
The actual restraints themselves were relatively simple, especially when compared to the other elements of the scene that would constitute the actual transformation. She was stood with her back against a large, heavy, wooden St Andrew’s cross that she acquired at great expense from a fetish fair last year, and had used in numerous self-bondage scenes since. Her ankles, thighs, wait, Forearms, and wrists were all pinned against the cross by thick, sturdy metal cuffs. These cuffs were locked in place by electronmagnets, wired to a timer that was set at a random duration between five minutes and two hours.
That was the other important aspect of this scene – luck. Katy wasn’t sure if she really, truly wanted to be a bimbo, so whilst she decided that the only way she could achieve it was to force it upon her via self-bondage, she also decided to leave it up to fate to see just how much of a bimbo she was destined to turn into.
It was possible, therefore, thatHer restraints would unlock themselves before anything else happened, and Katy was already prepared to use that as an excuse to back out and listen to that ever-present doubting thought in the back of her mind. Then again, with every other element of the scene programmed to happen within one hour (at a random time), there was a decent chance that ALL of the elements would occur, ensuring her total transformation.
That thought About the prospect of completely transforming into a bimbo utterly terrified her, but deep down, this was the desire that had been growing in her for many, many years.
When Katy does a job, she makes sure she does it properly, and that’s why there were several different elements that, when triggered, would help her transformation. The first three were all to do with her physical appearance, and all aided by a recent advancement in medical science.
Up until recently, the process of fitting breast imprants required surgery that only trained professionals could administrator. However, a new method of injecting the required silicane into the body had recently been developed, allowing for people to give themselves breast impants in the comfort of their own home. Granted, this was still a very expensive option, but lucky for Katy, money wasn’t an issue, so she bought not one but six needs full of the silicane.
These needs were now pointing directly at her, mere millionimetres away from her skin – one at the centre of each lip, one at each breast, about three inches above the nipple, and one in the middle of each of her butt cheats. Obviously, this was a highly important part of the process that was important to get right because once the silicane had been injected into the body, the only way out was to undergo even more expensive surgery that would inevitably leave scars, and which didn’t come with a guarantee of success. And besides, she was potentially about to lose all her money anyway.
So Katy had spent a long time making sure these elements were correct. She did all the testing and calculations she needed to, and was confident that if and when the time came, the needses would successfully inject the correct dosage of silicane into her lips, boobs and butt using the hydroulic system that attached each need to the St Andrew’s cross, and was also controlled by a random timer.
So far so good, she thought, and thinking was just About all she could do because trying to obviously check everything was all but impossible now she was restrained. This was in no small part thanks to her head restraint – two large metal plates, one on each side of her head, attached to the cross with adjustable screws that she used to press firmly enough against her head that she couldn’t move it, in turn making sure the lip needs would find the right spot, and having the added bonus of providing even stricter restraints.
These thoughts and restraints were getting her more and more turned on the longer they took hold of her, and that, in turn, drew her attention to what she had done to her cunt. As you can probably guess by now, it wasn’t a half-measure.
Chatity was a kink that, at first, Katy had no interest in. Why would she want to be denied such enjoyable sensings? How could it possibly be worth missing out on orgasms? But after curiosity got the better of her one day last year, and she spent the entire day edging herself without allowing herself to cum, she realized just how abnormally fun chatity could be, and had been pursuing it ever since.
This recent revelation saw her purchase several chatity belts, starting with a cheap, basic one to get introduced to the concept, and working her way up to the absolute piece of art she was currently wearing – and this is where Tony makes his first appearance in this unfortunate tale.
Having met via their respective workplaces, Tony and Katy had become best friends. They were such good friends, in fact, that she trusted him with her life, and whilst he wasn’t himself kindy – the main reason why they’d never explored anything beyond friend – he was very supportive of Katy’s desires, and had helped her out with equipment and suggestions on numerous previous occasions.
His most notable contribution thus far was an incredibly expensive, custom made chatity belt. What made it so expensive (as in, bordering on five-figures expensive) was two things. First, and mainly, was the material it was made of, which is called “dyneema”. Basically it’s like kevlar, only three times stronger, which means it’s unbelievably strong, yet incredibly light. The lightness helps the belt’s practice for long-term wear, whilst its strength – and the thickness of the material used for this belt – means that no tool mankind has so far invented can cut it off, so the only way to remove the belt is to unlock it.
This brings us to the other unique (and costly) feature of the belt – the CPU. Designed by Tony usingHis programming skills, and buried in the dyneema at an unreachable location within the front section of the belt, he wouldn’t tell Katy exactly what it did, save for a few things. First, it controlled the motor fixed just behind a small, rubber pad that lay over the clipris. When the CPU turned the motor on, the pad would vibrate, sending strong sensings through the clip that the wearer was helpless to do anything about. Second, the CPU controlled the belt’s lock, via a passcode entered on a keypad that plugged into a USB port on the front of the belt. Enter the correct code, and the front section would unbuckle itself and allow the belt to be taken off, the only way it was physically possible to remove the belt. The only other thing Tony mentioned was that the belt has a backup CPU installed within it, just in case the first one fails, but he expects the system to be able to run “for several years” before having any such issues.
Other notable features of the belt included amini-solar panel on the front to charge the motor and CPU, and a bespoke fitting to ensure that it hugged Katy’s body tightly, but comfortable, and with just enough room for water to get underneath for cleaning purposes, but nothing else.
As was Katy’s meticulous nature, she had defeat the belt for a week leading up to this scene. She knew the four-digit passcode so could have easily taken it off, but to ensure through and accurate testing, she kept it on the entire time. Sure enough, the cleaning process was sufficient, if a little inconvenient, and the randomly-timed motor made sure that she was kept constantly horny, either because it was pleasuring her, or because she was lost in the mindfuck of wondering when it would turn on next.
This horn was helped in no small part by the fact that the only way Katy has ever been able to cum is through vaginal penetration. Clitoral stimulation alone, whilst feeling amazing, has never been enough to tip her over the edge, and over thepast week, every motorised session has provided sufficient forced edges to make her more and more desperate for that elusive orgasm.
As she stood against the cross, belt still firmly in place, Katy was wondering whether she should have given herself one final orgasm before potentially being locked away for a much longer spell than a week. The keypad was plugged into her belt, ready to program another code that she would need to remember to unlock it. In order to make sure she could see the code being assigned, she propped the keypad up on a table in front of her – remembering this code was her only escape from the belt, because once it had been entered, Tony said, there was no way of retrieving it again. Of course, this keypad also had a timer function, so the code would be entered at a random time within the next hour.
Suddenly, none of these things mattered – not the belt, not the needs, not the restraints, nor the keypad in front of her. The first element of the transformation had been triggered.
It must have only been a few minutes since the scene – and all the relative times – began, but Katy figured that with so much going on, there was always a good chance that one of the elements would be triggered at an early stage. In this case, the element in question made sure she had to significantly change her choice of clothing from now on.
On the other side of the room was a Large, metal, cylindrical container, inside of which she had placed all of her clothes. All her work clothes, all her going out clothes, all her underwear, every single item of clothing she owned – even her trainers and sensible shoes – were in the container. On top of the container was a lid, with a small hole cut in the middle, and a funnel sticking out the top of the hole. Suspended above the funnel was a large container of hydrochloric acid, positioned upside down. When the timer governing it hit zero, a weight dropped, pulling a string that opened the lid of thiscontainer, pouring its entire contents into the metal container below.
Katy let out as much of a moan as her needle-threatening lips would allow as she saw the translucent acid container empty its contents into the metallic barrel, melting all of her clothes and shoes. Briefly, she felt relieve that the lid was doing a good enough job to keep the smell and fumes contained, but those thoughts quickly turned to the box of alternate clothing that was waiting for her in her bedroom.
Skirts that were too short for her, tiny tops that revealed far more than is sensible, fishnets and see-through attire, bras that would push up her (potentially new, bigger) breasts, ridiculously high heels, and a complete lack of underwear, this box of alternate clothing that she had purchased the previous week in preparation for this scene would be her only clothes options now, and would force her to dress like the slutty bimbo she’d always wanted to be.
Of course, there was nothing stoppedg her from simply shopping for a new set of sensitive clothes…yet.
Katy didn’t have much time to consider the extent of what had just happened, because the next timer soon hit zero, and this one was for the needs in front of her lips. With a mixture of terror at the permanent change she was about to undergo, and relieve that all her testing had ensured it was working properly, Katy had no choice but to keep her head perfectly Still as the hydrolics kicked into action, pushing the needs into each lip, and then slowly injecting the silicane inside her.
The process had to be a slow one, the faster you tried to inject, the more likely the silicane wouldn’t spread evenly or go where you want it to. So Katy was forced to wait, ending what seemed like an eternal mindfuck as her lips very slowly but very surely began to swell and puff with silicane.
Eventually, Katy’s lips had reached the level of slutty fullness that she had desired and measured out beforehand. But whaten she looked down (as best she could) to make sure the needses had finished their job, a fresh wave of terror enveloped her, and this time it wasn’t a desirable one.
Somehow, despite already administratoring the dosage she wanted, the needses were still half full. How could this be? How could such a mistake have happened, despite all the meticulous planning? Katy couldn’t figure it out, her judgment clouded by the panic-stricken terror as the relentless hydrolics continued to slowly, methodically inject more silicate into her lips, making them swell more and more.
Unable to move her head due to the restraints and the needs, Katy looked up to the camera in front of her with fear and tears in her eyes. The camera was her emergency escape mechanism. On the other side was Tony, who only lived a few minutes away, and was keeping an eye on her, ready to intervene if something catastrophic happened (like an unforeseen medical emergency, or she got burgled). The problem was, Katy’s lips were now being pressed so closely together by the needs and their own fullness, that she was unable to speak, unable to communicate to Tony that such a severe miscalculation had occurred. What made it worse was that she didn’t tell Tony what levels of silicane she was going to use, or how it would look in the end, simply announcing “I’ll definitely look a lot sluttier!”
So whilst Katy’s lips slowly swelled to twice the size they should have done, Tony sat back and watched, completely unaware of the recent unforeseen development.
When the needses had finished doing their thing, Katy finally had a moment to think, and two immediate thoughts came to mind – neither of them good. First, she cursed herself for not designing the hydroulics to retract the needs once they had finished. At least then she would be able to speak and get Tony to come over before any more damage was done. This led Katy to her second thought, if the amount of silicane in her lip needs was sobadly miscalculated, would the same be true for her breasts and her butt?
Katy thought hard for a moment – whilst moaning involuntarily at her new situation – and suddenly remembered what the instructions on the boxes of silicane and needs said.
“The markers on the needle are used to measure the increase to your chosen body part to the desired size.” Katy had so carefully measured out the amount of silicane for each needle, but the nature of her mistakenly dawned on her. The markers on each need were designed for one to be used for BOTH lips/breasts/butt cheats, not two. This means that every need pointing at her held twice as much silicane as she wanted.
Immediately Katy tried to thrash and scream at the camera for Tony to come and help her, but her efforts would be in vain. The unforgiving metal bonds prevented any meaningful movement, and the needs still pinning her extremely puffy lips together stopped any attempt at speech. Besides, Katy had givenTony strict instruction to only come over in a geneine emergency.
“Simply struggle and having doubts about what I’m doing isn’t enough reason to come over, understand?” That’s what she had told him in no uncertain terms, and as far as he was concerned, that’s exactly what she was doing.
All she could do now, was hope that the timer for her restraints would run out before the timer for her other needs. It wouldn’t be long before she got her answer.
A few minutes was all that Katy was afforded to contemplate the potential magnitude of her impending demise before the next timer hit zero, and just as she feared to the pit of her stomach, it was another set of needs.
This time it was her butt that was to receive the grotesquely ill-measured adjustment. It was a process that made little noise – indeed had it not been for the beeping of the timer and the slight scratching sensing as each need pierced each chef, she wouldn’t have known the process had even begun.
Just like with her lips, the forced modification would take some time to be achieved. Plenty of time for more tears to roll down Katy’s mascara-stained cheeses. Plenty of time for her to try and imagine what her future holds, how she will live with this new body that she’s forced herself to have. Plenty of time to…never mind, another timer just hit zero…the needs for her tits.
Having to cope with feeling one part of her body being mercilessly and artificially swollen was bad enough, but now Katy had to try to deal with her butt AND her tits being slowly enlarged at the same time. It was all too much for her, as several more pathetic attempts at screams and desperate pleasures failed to escape her pinned lips. But she had no choice, unless Tony had somehow got the message and was on his way over, there was no way out, nothing to do but endure the situation she’d put herself in.
Soon, the effects of the silicane became tangible. Katy could feel her butt pressing harder against the painy wooden cross, forcing her body to be pushed slightly further away from it, which in turn made her metal bonds even tighter and stricter. This was something she hadn’t catered for with her misjudgement, and was most obvious at her thighs, where the rigid cuffs began to dig in first with disappoint, and then pain.
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