As you were contemplating your next move, you found your eyes continually swinging back to the “Staff Repair Room” door that the maid that led you here had entered. Each time you looked, the option seemed all the more enticing.
I mean, Nym wanted one of the two devilish girls who trapped you in your tight, fabric and latex prison, so they would get in trouble for not showing up. What’s more, seeing as they didn’t turn you in immediately, that might land them in even more hot water.
‘Serves them right’ you thought bitterly. Their antics have created a lot of trouble for you and it’s fitting that they should suffer for it.
But ignoring the girls for a bit, you drew your gloves fingers across your mask’s chin in a pantomime of a pondering gesture as you returned to thinking about the room. A staff repair room should most likely have things to help servants out of the skinsuits and masks. You suspect as Blue and Red have their own masks that there are likely human servants employed in Nym’s mansion as well. Blue and Red probably do similar things to the servants as they did to you. Hell, they may have even though you were one!
You felt a sad pang in your heart as you realized that other people may have been subjected to a similar procedure as you. You can’t even fathom how someone could like this kind of thing! And yet...
You thought of how you just felt yourself up and the pleasure that you felt while doing it. ...But that was just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, right? You were just... curious.... yeah, curious, that’s all.
You felt the need to pinch yourself just to make sure that you weren’t going crazy. You let out a muffled growl through your gag as you realized you only felt the padding that created the illusion of your voluptuous hips. You dejectedly squeezed your upper arm, one of the few places where you could still feel your real self underneath your getup.
With a quick shake of your head, flaxen hair whipping in front of your vision through your small eyeholes ,you resolved to put those thoughts away from your mind for now.
Having decided you’ve deliberated for long enough, you pivoted on your encased toes and turned back towards the staff room. Tentatively, you grasp the door handle, and with a quick glance to your left and right revealing no one, you thrust the door open and quickly enter before sagging against the other side. You began trying to rub some feeling back into your feet that ache from the pressure from the garters. Looking up, you surveyed the room.
To your surprise, the room seemed to be uninhabited. Twin rows of stations with sewing tables and ironing boards lined the center of the room. A row of lockers lined the left wall, one empty one hanging ajar. On the right side of the wall were two single doors that presumably led to two different areas. A small, black pedestal was tucked away into corner and a whiteboard hanging by a door had the words “All loafers are having their soles replaced. Please make do with other footwear until they are returned.” written largely in a red marker. A smaller scribble in the bottom right corner said “Don’t use my panties; they’re special :) -Cassie”
Steadying yourself with the door, you pulled yourself to your feet and rummaged through the lockers, looking for anything useful. Unsurprisingly, they were filled with various outfits, shoes, and lingerie. A large on the end held a plethora of doll masks of varying expressions, all of which unnervingly seemed to be looking straight at you. A final locker contained wigs mounted upon stands and a filing cabinet on the end turned out to be filled with an organized catalogue of eyes to be placed on doll masks. There was enough in here to make over a thousand different combinations of doll faces and no two would look alike. You were beginning to suspect that the mansion was far less populated than you expected, as a small group of servants changing faces and outfits could give the illusion of multiple people. You felt a bit creeped out by the idea that two maids you see could be the same person... or even that that one maid could actually be one or more people.
Pushing aside this thoughts, you walk over to the pedestal, which has a plaque affixed to the top as well as squarish indentation in the surface. After positioning yourself so that your large mask didn’t block the light you needed to see, you were able to read that the plaque said, “Electronic Lock Remover”
You feel a surge of excitement begin to bubble up inside of you as you realize the implications of this. Finally you’ll be able to be free of your outfit and skinsuit!
As the pedestal was a bit taller than you waist, you strained to lift up your left leg to the top. Balancing awkwardly, you place the belt buckle into the indentation and feel relief washing over you as you hear a static sound as the belt loosens. Eagerly pulling it off, you manically remove the second one from your left leg before moving on to the other leg. With the belts lying on the floor around you, you twist and lean over to remove the belts keeping your gloves stuck to you. In a similar fashion, the belts slide off and you stretch your arms as pressure is relieved from them. Finally, you bow down and blindly fumble around, trying to line up the belt that goes around your neck. With a final -clunk- , all of the belts are removed.
With one final lock to remove, you walk back to one of the lockers that had a mirror lining the inside of the door. You watched as the smiling doll shrugged as if to say, “I guess this is goodbye.” Her arms began sliding up her body, feeling the sensations for a final time as she hugged herself.
Wait, not ‘her’, that’s you.
But try as you might, you couldn’t see anything about her that would suggest that she was male at all. So why was she acting like a boy?
You watched as the doll waved to the mirror before proceeding to make a motion as if blowing a kiss. Her unmoving smile watched you as she began to pose. It started simple, an imitation of what you’d seen girls do, but it quickly grew increasingly provocative. She probably would’ve stayed playing around for a long time if she didn’t notice the massive erection she was getting.
That YOU were getting.
You quickly drew back from the mirror, panting and gasping in your penis gag. You don’t know what just happened. You felt like you lost all sense of yourself and for a moment, you really believed that you were a beautiful, blonde doll. A life-sized doll with glimmering red eyes and a charming, immobile smile. A perpetually happy and joyful doll. An unmistakably female doll, with a modest bust and a tiny waist. A doll with a soft and round butt and wide hips. A doll with no bulge in her underwear.
You shook yourself again; you HAD to get out of this stuff. You don't know what's making you act this way, but you know that it must be the doll mask.
Turning back to the pedestal, you placed your head onto the surface and begin turning about, trying to find the sweet spot that would release you from your torment. You flipped your head one way, and then to the other side... and then back again.
Where is the release?!
You begin to feel panic sink in as you can't find where to open the mask. You even begin running your forehead into the surface and the back of your neck in desperation. Your fingers seemed to move of their own accord as they ran up and down your nape and all around your mask, frantically searching for a seam or some other way to open the resin shell that encases your head. All your latex-covered fingers found was your wig that held fast to your head and the nicely fashioned ears of the mask. And is that...
Yes! At last, you find something! It's a small depression behind your left ear. And in it, you can feel a small slit.
A keyhole. You felt all of your hopes come crashing down as your freedom is sealed away by one, tiny hole. You collapsed on the floor. Sure, you could take your latex outfit off, but you still can't be free from the female body that was unwillingly forced upon you.
You felt yourself starting to cry; but this cry was a silent one. You could imagine how you look right now. A blonde doll collapsed against the wall, her corseted chest struggling to heave dry sobs, and if you listened closely, you might have been able to hear the girlish sobs that emanated from her gagged throat.
And all the while, she's smiling the whole time. Her face is the picture of bliss; reflecting none of the sadness that she was feeling inside, none of the sadness of the boy inside.
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You don't know how long it was before you finally picked yourself off of the floor. While your freedom didn't come when you had anticipated, yearned for it to happen, you've pulled yourself together and have an idea of how to open the keyhole. The one way that you can open the mask is by...