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AislinneAndFriends

Wherein a maid is scouted for a job.

May 28th, 2015
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  1. [02:01] Amalia Blanche gags Aislinne with her butt.
  2.  
  3. [02:01] Amalia Blanche facesit.
  4.  
  5. [02:01] Amalia Blanche: Shhh.
  6.  
  7. [02:02] Aislinne can't commence with the butt-tonguing while gagged, so she merely enjoys the wonderful feeling of a nice butt atop her face.
  8.  
  9. [02:18] Amalia Blanche: Aislinne.
  10.  
  11. [02:18] Amalia Blanche: I mean seat.
  12.  
  13.  
  14. [02:18] Amalia Blanche shifts hips.
  15.  
  16. [02:23] Aislinne melts into a puddle and reforms around the maid like some sort of stupidly tight, full body hug up to her neck. The rubbermonster's little more than a blob at this point, but she fixes that a little a moment later. Her own head molds itself out and she nuzzles Amalia's cheek, planting a kiss right after.
  17.  
  18. [02:23] Aislinne: Mmmyes?
  19.  
  20. [02:29] Aurora Ryall: Mew mew
  21.  
  22. [02:30] Amalia Blanche shifts slightly and grumbles in a rather pouty and semi-immature manner as the rubbery puddle rises upwards over and against her form.
  23.  
  24. [02:30] Amalia Blanche: S-Seats don't talk. Bad seat! Bad!
  25.  
  26. [02:31] Amalia Blanche reaches and searches around for a paddle. That'll fix it, yeah!
  27.  
  28. [02:34] Aislinne squeezes a little tighter, forcing Amalia's hands firmly to her sides. The girl's body is perfectly outlined through the glossy latex, though it's apparent she's still wearing clothes underneath. The goo monster begins her groping anyway, clenching her body around bountiful breasts and pinching intermittently at nipples. With that underway, she angles her head a little, tongue flitting out to trace along a vulnerable demon-ear.
  29.  
  30. [02:34] Aislinne: Seat just wants to love you and hold you tight. What's wrong with that?
  31.  
  32. [02:42] Amalia Blanche stiffles a little noise of discomfort at the squeezing, though it's probably not enough to really seem like she wants to come out of the sleek, smooth, polished and tight embrace. Every detail of her frame is put on display - and what little blemishes she might have are sealed and smothered in the darkness of the goo-esque female's grasp, though what isn't sealed are the little melodies of pinched pleasure leaking from her lips. "Mmmnf."
  33.  
  34. [02:42] Amalia Blanche: I-I suppose nothing really.
  35.  
  36. [02:43] Amalia Blanche: I never expected such a.. Lovingly intimate seat. Oh well. Love the seat, the seat loves you back.`
  37.  
  38. [02:48] Aislinne holds tight like a seat should, ensuring the cute woman inside has all the support and comfort she should need. ...along with more groping, more invisible hands starting their work on that plump, perfect butt. Flesh is dug into, squeezed with every bit of gusto the strange nano-being can muster without making it too painful. There's even a few gentle, ghostly flickers of fingers as the "suit" mimics a few brushes along the demon's thighs, feeling up through clothing but never quite slipping further inward. Higher, and teeth begin to make themselves known, nibbling at the tip of Amalia's ear before going down, down...and nipping at her neck, the latex below quivering as if it wants to rush up higher and complete the cocoon. A final lick, and Aislinne goes back to resting her cheek on the demon's, humming her delight.
  39.  
  40. [02:49] Aislinne: Made for your comfort, love. Think of it as the most intimate cuddle-bug ever.
  41.  
  42. [03:02] Amalia Blanche had no uh, defence against her suit - for the better or the worse on that matter. On the one hand, a seat that actively saw the comfort of its user was without doubt an absolutely perfect work of engineering, and really, who wouldn't want such a.. courteous.. piece of furniture? Suffice to say, the music that came in the form of soft panting, whining and purring was a noticeable form of Amalia's appreciation - a vocal sense of content and comfort, panting as she clenched her thighs tightly together whilst those lips and teeth worked at her ear. A certain dampness had probably formed between those clenching thighs though the latex betrayed nothing but perfection and in this sense, purity on part of its captive. "Hmph. I have to wonder who's keeping who. Still.. I won't be able to do my maid work sitting around like this," she responded with a little sense of complaint in her voice, "H-hopefully you'll be able to cover those details, just like you're covering.. Something else.. Mmn.~"
  43.  
  44. [03:11] Aislinne stretched her 'neck' outward after her little journey to the maid's neck, allowing herself to face and look her captive straight in the eye. Her head cocked gently to the side, a quizzical little look on her face slightly betrayed by the hint of a smirk tickling at her lips. "Oh, but of course. What was I thinking? Silly me. We'll have to fix this." And fix this she does, her hold on the girl somehow tightening even further, rushing around and adding more of her mass to give Amalia a bit of an exaggerated figure. Bigger breasts, wider hips, an even bigger butt, but it was all part of the suit. The rubber at her neck rushed upward, but avoided her face for the time being, matting hair down and wrapping around her horns. With that, Aislinne added the finishing touches, a glossy little maid headdress atop a bald looking head, fat, fake nipples topping the larger breasts, and she was done, her head melting back into the suit. The teasing never let up, though. If anything, it worsened, real breasts hidden beneath molested with hunger while the ass behind was loved and kneaded. Limbs unstuck, and Amalia was "freed", so to speak. "There. Now you can move. Continue with maidly duties~." A voice in her covered ear, but Aislinne ensured the girl could hear just fine. The poor encased thing looked nude, but in reality she wasn't. Her face was the only thing that would allow someone to know it was her.
  45.  
  46. [03:29] Amalia Blanche didn't quite expect what followed and leaned away slightly in some sort of ironic gesture representing an attempt for space from.. Well, a living suit conforming to entirity of her form. "Well, What do you pro--!" there was no actual cause for her silence beyond the shocking speed of what ensued, the surprise of which dwarfed the previous unexpected gesture of the latex creature entirely as Aislinne seemed to get straight to work on doing what she did best. Amalia was fairly gifted in her figure, though that was a given when you were a creature that personified mortal deception, decadence and desire. Her breasts were completely layered,compounded and built over, leaving her easily three cup-sizes beyond whatever she already maintained; her hips were brough wider to match - maintaining her proportions to a realistic sense if only in that regard - and of course, the real price in the form of her plump and juicy rear was heavily layered and piled upon, leaving all of the above in reality very cramped under the artificial layers that lewdly bounced, rocked and shifted with even a slight movement on part of the maid. Her horns were neatly sealed, left looking akin to some kind of obsidian crown and the replacement for her headdress melted nicely between them; all that remained was a flustered face as Amalia was forcibly pushed out off of the seat, stumbling onto her knees rather awkwardly for the immediate moment before she raised herself up. By now, the molestation was absolute - if it weren't before - and her lips quivered, unable to hold back the more subtle groans woven between her words and pants as she ran her fingers up over her thighs and hips, momentarily grasping her own rear aswell as her breasts - evidently, this was more distrating than the seat, a truly ironic result.
  47.  
  48. [03:41] Aislinne felt every little movement the girl made, and ensured she could 'feel' her new body as if it were her own. Wherever Amalia's hands ventured, sensation rocked her true self beneath, the suit mimicking the touch on the sensitive body trapped in Aislinne's being. Every bit of her was bouncier, the rubbermonster turning her playmate into a crude parody of sexuality. The cute face was the joke of it all, a tiny island of normalcy amid the practically dollified form it sat upon. "There we go. Now you're even better, wouldn't you say? Let's get a liiittle more serious now..." Serious was an understatement, the suit worming its way around the demon's underthings to press a perfectly formed invader into her puckered hole, it immediately vibrating madly inside. Suddenly, a splurt of rubber shot outward from the encasement, landing on the floor a bit of a way from Amalia.
  49.  
  50. "Oh dear. It appears there's a mess. You know what to do, my lovely maid. Get on your hands and knees and use your tongue. Lap it up like the good girl you are." A harsh pinch of the nipples trapped inside followed, invisible hands trailing their way up and down the still impressive curves hidden away beneath the ludicrous visible ones.
  51.  
  52. [03:57] Amalia Blanche could very much be accounted for in terms of her visual incarnation as some sort of practical joke commited by Aislinne. In every way - in every way she physically mocked something about herself, or about latex - that or there was some sort of irony in regards to how she looked. Amalia had plenty of surprises in wait however - for example, the accuracy of sensational exchange under her suit. It was almost like all that excess was non existent when she'd stroke, brush, and prod any location of herself, yet she and 'Linne knew well enough that the size of her breasts, hips and ass were all entirely false. It was kind of comical to see Amalia's hands, which were now examining anxiously at her own face, to be reaching up, then down,then up, then down, over and over, anxiously as if trying to assure herself as to weather it was real or false like those other aspects of her physical being - and the meticulous melding of latex onto her skin did a perfect task of leaving her slightly in uncertainty towards the answer to that.
  53.  
  54. Right on cue, Aislinne showed just how serious she wanted to be as a sharp slipping motion caused her to perk onto her toes, giving a surprised vocalization - at this point there was no real need to highlight every little moan or whimper given there was almost perpetually one leaving her lips. The sound of splattering stickiness came from across the floor as an aroused Amalia slowly kneeled onto the floor, her stiff, erect nipples safely hidden under the false pair before shooting a glance in direction of the puppet mistress in charge of this suit, and it blessings and curses - before she gingerly sniffed at the fuming liquid - not that she didn't enjoy the strong scent of rubber - "I'm not a cat, But I take my position very seriously no less," she softly, smoothly retorted, before beginning to lick and lap at the puddle in a manner that showed evident enjoyment and traits akin to those she'd just dismissed.
  55.  
  56. [04:10] Aislinne mocked anyway as the maid began her work, mechanically toned mewls and meows sounding as if they were right in her ear. And they were. "Such a dutiful maid. So punctual, so poised. The very image of dignity." A dirty little chuckle followed the 'praise', and the tiny puddle beneath began to stick to the lapping tongue. The maid's first reward became apparent, a second insertion forming itself inside of her slit molded perfectly for her, buzzing its welcome with all the power it could muster. A little higher, and the rubber wrapped itself tighter around Amalia's clit, squeezing, tugging gently, the torturous gift everything Aislinne promised and more.
  57.  
  58. "What say we finish your uniform?" The little puddle was merely a means to an end, with it flowing up from the contact point of Amalia's tongue and slathering itself over her face. It smoothed her features over, blinding her for a moment before granting sight once more. She still appeared without eyes, however, her nose the next hidden casualty. Forming around her lips, it didn't cover them, but instead 'plumped' them up as well, the only identifying feature on the demon's face soon becoming a cartoonishly fat pair of doll-like lips. Some of the rubbery stuff even flowed inward, smoothing out teeth, ribbing throat, and generally finishing the last of its work. The poor thing looked nothing like the maid entirely obscured inside, an insanely sexualized toy of a maid with an obsidian sheen. A final touch was given, bright white letters across a featureless expanse spelling out "SLUT" on her 'face'. "There we are. What do you think of your new look?" Aislinne only puppetted Amalia long enough to force her to move to a mirror before relinquishing control again, her new form on full display to its owner.
  59.  
  60. [04:40] Amalia Blanche shot another glance in the direction of the woman; of course it would be appropriate to tease her vocally at the point to which things had devolved. Or evolved, in some sense. She'd been given a better body, kind of - but a fake and thoroughly sexualizing one, which robbed her entirely of her true self and replaced it with a facade of something that could only attract equal sexuality and lust - how appropriate on a world driven by magnets. Amalia parted her thighs as an insert pushed between; the immaculately detailed folds perfectly on display whilst the true versions were left hidden under the rubber layering above. Tugs and squeezing in the delicate bud crowning that snatch proved an added torture, significant that it would be considered an independent torment in and of itself, however things weren't finished. Amalia remembered what Aislinne's.. gift.. did to rampant and released tongues.
  61.  
  62. First, it merely stuck to the tip - then, it seemed like the entire puddle charitably decided to clean itself up - how? Why, by collecting all upon Amalia's face. At first it seemed like an improperly undefined mass of liquid obsidian - then, it evolved further, and in a sense, assumed a more uniform appearance. First, it ribbed her of her sight. But not for long, for Amalia was allowed her vision after albeit slightly darkened from the overcoat's tinting coloration. Then, it began to collect over her lips, thickening and roundening them into rubber replacements. Those lips - those lips were soft, but full, the typr of lips you could kiss for an eternity. But that wasn't the end of it, rather, it was merely the external portion of Aislinne's assertions. More latex flowed inwards, Nd whilst it coated her oral cavity and throat, it also shaped and painted the interior in a structure more fitting of something that belonged between another's thighs rather than sweeping a castle's corridors. The final touch was left unseen as the vibrators thrummed in their respective locations, whilst Amalia looked into a mirror, the displayed letters stained in her mind, paralyzing to look at in addition to the rest of the sight; harmlessly the sealed maid-toy wobbled from side to side unsteadily, weakened at the knees from the sight she'd been reduced to. It was humiliating, yet her own arousal was present in addition to whatever the vibrators caused from her. In the end - In the end, Amalia, or what remained of her, simply babbled and her lips mademmotions as if she were talking, but with the latex coating her throat her speech wasn't much of a strong point and all she could reply with was useless and inviting mewls and moans of pleasure, her hands running over her features vainly and fleetingly as if she were trying to find some sort of seam.
  63.  
  64. Spoiler Alert: There weren't any.
  65.  
  66. [04:56] Aislinne wasn't worried in the slightest at the pitiful attempts the maid made to free herself. She simply let the useless scrabbling continue, the room soon filling with squeaks of rubber on rubber while Amalia continued to explore. Aislinne idly wondered when the girl would simply collapse, losing herself in the moment, but she had plans to possibly help that tipping point along. Both of the thick, ribbed dildoes began to thrust, slow, laborious, stretching both holes below with their sudden activity. The endless sensation rolling across Amalia's button continued as well, the suit mimicking a tongue, a pair of lips, nibbling teeth, all too real but still with that strange, robotic feel to it. As if she were actually being fucked, the encasement spread her cheeks a little, invisible fingers digging in to grope hard, knead, her puckered doll-hole on display to all who cared to see it. Thick thighs were teased, loved, squeezed and rubbed, hips held on tightly and firmly. A group of invisible Aislinnes had their way with Amalia, unseen, but there in every sense save sight. Breasts worked over and over, nipples suckled, pinched, a crescendo of attention all for the helpless maid within. Even her lips weren't left unloved, pressure on them suddenly appearing as if through a kiss, the rubbery monster embracing every inch of her newly minted maid toy.
  67.  
  68. "What a lovely doll you've become. Look at you. Look at the perfection I've wrought. The reward for your continued service, the perfect servant to clean, to love, to be taken..." The French-accented tones were directly in Amalia's mind, Aislinne having finally interfaced more intimately with the girl's mind. "How long can you hold, though? How long until you collapse and begin to love your new form? Are you a dutiful maid, or are you a wanton whore?" The question hung in the air for a few moments before the puppetmistress herself finally reformed herself, pulling free from the front of Amalia's body. Nothing about the demon changed, however, there simply was suddenly a curvaceous, glossy, nude woman wrapping her arms around the doll's waist, continuing the lustful meeting of lips. Her tongue slithered down the girl's throat, practically using it as just another hole to be invaded, thrusting away with an elongated appendage. Legs entwined, Aislinne taking a few forceful steps forward, eyes wide and glowing and staring into the featureless nothing before her. Breasts crushed together, nipples swirling with fake ones, the rubbery monster slowly grinding herself into the body she crushed against. Muffled moans, groans, mixing with Amalia's, a muted symphony between the two that could barely be heard amid two rubbery bodies rubbing and sliding against one another.
  69.  
  70. [05:17] Amalia Blanche spent quite some time being felt up by the suit entirely unseen to the eye of any others, though at this point the least of things to be unusual about the unfolding scene to a lucky spectator would be concerned about would be the idea of illusory hands formed by the nano-rubber structural nanites allover her form from head to toe. So smooth, she was still dressed inside - though her clothes were likely torn or pushed to the side here and there by now, given it was probably the lowest priority to anyone at this moment. The real star of the show was not Aislinne but rather, the creation she'd engineered using Amalia as the foundation for her work. From a humble maid like any other - maybe not like any other. Amalia was not someone to underestimate or underrate in terms of who and what she was - but regardless, from what she was, Aislinne had built an image of sexually to its maximum and absolute peak, all to the edge of potential ridicule in the body she'd fitted Amalia's own into.
  71.  
  72. And then the very creator of such a body made her appearance; like a scientist appearing to claim her credit after presenting her works - though as simplistic as that may have been on a fundamental level that was precisely what had happened as Aislinne announced herself and her ultimatum to her victim right before bringing the tempo and heat higher. If Amalia wasn't already ridden and wrapped with lust, she was most certainly now as she harmlessly grinded and rolled her hips forward against her captor whilst melting lips to lips, tits to tits against her frame, the sounds leaving her lips akin to worshipful praise and hymns as she teetered upon her personal peak.
  73.  
  74. After a static phase during which naught but the sound of squeaky material could heard and formed came to pass, a long deep, content sound left Amalia's lips - and with that she collapsed onto her knees. Perhaps she was a dutiful maid in her mind but evidently, she hadn't proved herself to Aislinne; under the rubber was an absolute mess of stickiness, liquids and heat as she slumped against her hip rendered naught but a conquest of the technomistress towering over her.
  75.  
  76. [05:33] Aislinne fell with her prize, steering the fall so the girl was on her knees for only a few moments. The two kept falling, the woman still surprisingly able to hold the kiss amid gravity taking its unavoidable hold. Before long Amalia was flat on her back, Aislinne lying atop and now able to further press her weight downward. Hands began to explore, one going lower to personally grab and grope at the rump squished into the ground, the other tracing along where the demon's spine would be to cup the back of her dome of a head. Grinding became animalistic humping, the monster's heavy, throbbing dick flushed with heat due to the friction of the stomachs it was trapped between. She was close, the throbbing pressure in her head a clear enough sign to her, but there was one last thing to do. To truly claim the maid she'd turned into little more than an object...
  77.  
  78. A slight pull back, and the dildo in the demon's cunt melted away, only to be replaced by nearly a foot of thick, twitching dick. The meeting of lips finally broke, Aislinne jerking her head back as far as it would go to scream, scream, scream. Her thrusts were an incoherent mess, schlicks and schlorps amid squeaks and schqurks. It didn't take her long to tumble over her peak, a final, almost pitiful crying-out signalling ropes upon ropes of sticky, rubbery seed filling Amalia's rubberized hole. The one thrusting in tune with its creator 'came' as well, filling both holes with imitation semen that soon began to dribble outward. With her back still painfully arched, Aislinne slumped, putting all of her weight onto the doll-demon beneath her. Still cradling from behind, the maddening attentions thundering across Amalia's body began to ebb, granting her at least some form of mercy in her insanely slutty cocoon. The heat of the moment tapering off, the rubbery monster nuzzled her cheek into the glossy one below, eyes fluttering shut with warmth pervading the two like a blanket.
  79.  
  80. "You're quite something, little maid. Held out for so long, but even the strongest have their limits. Still...I think you may have a lucrative job in the near future." Unbeknownst to Amalia, Aislinne left a 'mark' on her brain, so to speak. A nanochip to track, to gauge, and, when the time was right, offer her an incredibly enticing new position. For now, though, she cuddled into her new companion, cozying herself while still hilted inside.
  81.  
  82. [05:54] Amalia Blanche had about as much humanity as a sex doll at this point - and as obvious as that may have been to anyone else she could only really feel that in herself now, flat on her back under the one who'd created this circumstance for her to begin with. Perhaps there was some part of hers at fault for allowing herself to be snared up by such a creature - afterall, she'd started this whole mess by sitting upon the other herself - and now she was paying for it with her mind and body, the former frying under the heat and crushing tighteness her body experienced from head to toe interwoven by groping and feeling albeit that paled into insignificance with the weight of Aislinne herself sprawled across upon her, seeing to make sure her rubberized form was kept in place - below. Below Aislinne. Below everyone else, only above the floor if only so that she'd be able to clean it.
  83.  
  84. The object was not about to object, though despite how overloaded her mind was - and she was by no means a babbling brainless bimbo - Amalia felt the device she'd been filled with for the preceding hours dissipate into nothingness. That was only to facilitate nothing else as Aislinne mercilessly worked forward hard and fast with the vicious force of a medieval battering ram from a creature anything but medieval in nature. Liplocked for but a moment, the demon maid was left to listen to the mechanical screams that echoed all around which made for a good chorus complimenting the rubbery squeaks pristinely whilst she herself harmlessly grunted with each hilting thrust - what followed was the absolute gesture to claim and acquire; sticky, hot molten rubber filled and poured out of both passages, flooding moments after out from around both sets of rubbery pillars which'd filled the captive maid as she arched against the floor in an upwards and inward curl, her toes and fingertips curling just as much in the same sensually sinful moment; if she'd not just gotten off a moment ago she'd definitely done so now, but regardless of that Aislinne had gotten her off twice in rapid succession which wasn't something the demon maid had experienced in any prior time let alone getting off itself being such a celebratory and occasional pleasure to begin with.
  85.  
  86. Following, Amalia slumped. She slackened and laid flatly in the arms of Aislinne - it was almost bridal really, save that this was no marriage though it was certainly a position of, erm, "employment" that would probably last just as long as such a relationship. Amalia was far too dizzied and 'gone' for lack of better term to really hear whatever Aislinne was telling her be it praise, intimacy, mockery or puppy love, and she couldn't quite feel that little gift and trinket she'd left behind either, but despite what the woman upon her had done to her she seemed fairly content and relaxed, a little breath leaving her lips in something of an adorable state of exhaustion whilst juices continued to leak from her loins in her all but unconscious state.
  87.  
  88. [06:12] Aislinne finally began to allow the demon some measure of freedom. Of a sense of self. The last boon she granted was something she'd taken away, Amalia's identity. The rubber began to melt away, starting at the girl's horns and exposing them after such a long and arduous situation. Hair basically poofed into being, wet with sweat and likely a bit lank in look. Eyes, so pretty and hidden since the catlike lick, revealed once more along with a cute little nose and ears that still begged to be played with. Lips deflated, the latex flowing back into Aislinne to reveal ones that were still full and lusciously kissable, which the rubbery monster obliged with a gentle peck after they were revealed. Down Amalia's neck, surging past her collarbone and flowing down her shoulders, and more of her was revealed along with a now disheveled maid outfit. As her chest was once more un-encased, it was apparent the mad groping had ripped the outfit, nipples peeking out along with small sections of breast-flesh. Smooth stomach, back, clothing at the hips torn in places as well, and the most tragic of it all revealed itself with Aislinne finally pulling herself free with a last, lyrical groan.
  89.  
  90. The maid's dress was a disaster, practically shredded with the force of Aislinne's attentions. Amalia had no underthings to speak of, her still-drooling holes open to the air but luckily mostly hidden by the shiny body still pressed tight to hers. At least her leggings were mostly intact, though anything near her thighs was no less destroyed as the area around her crotch and ass. Lastly, cute feet were freed, and Amalia was finally herself again. With her last gesture of kindness done, Aislinne wiggled herself more comfortably into the warm, smooth body still beneath. Legs tangled with legs, the hand at the maid's butt idly tracing circles with fingers while the one above busily entangled itself in newly revealed hair. A last peck on the cheek, and a bare body held tight to one that was probably better off nude anyway.
  91.  
  92. "Mmhell of a sex doll, but you're also insanely cute. Decisions, decisions..." Whatever decisions those were, only Aislinne knew for the time being.
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