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CYOTF

Airhead

added by rubberfrills 8 years ago I TG O

Becoming a perfect shiny doll feels overwhelming, making your head spin. You sit down, unable to stand straight.

'What happens to me now? I'm a doll... I can't be alone, I need someone, I need... I need... an owner' — you say, getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. Your feelings are a jumbled mess of fear, excitement, lust and... desire to serve?

Unconsciously, you start sucking your own rubber finger, sending waves of ecstasy across your petite dolly body.

'What am I doing...?' — you think but it doesn't matter. You want more pleasure... more...

As you keep sucking, pleasure gets so intense that you involuntarily bite your finger a bit. Much to your surprise, it gives in, as if it was hollow! You squeeze your hand and surely enough, it's soft and empty, with no bones or flesh inside.
You reach for your foot and pull it towards you. It folds and bends! Under normal circumstances this would mean a horrible bone fracture but now that you're an inflatable doll, it's completely harmless.
The dress's puffy shoulders inflate fully, becoming round and tight. You feel pressure building inside of you, pushing out every wrinkle on your rubber body, making your limbs rounder and a bit cartoonish.

You feel an itch at your butt. You reach under the rubber bow only to find a hard plastic shape protruding. You stand up and try walking over to the mirror, but it's nearly impossible with your rubber boots now being rounder at the soles. So you jump, flying a meter or two every time. You're so light now, almost like a balloon.

Finally, you make it to the mirror. You're a puffed out version of your dolly self. Your lips are plumper too, made for sucking. You turn around and lift the bow a bit. That protruding thing is an inflation valve!

Still, you're not a typical love doll yet. Your fingers are separate, your face is more realistic, and you can still move on your own.

'I can move... I must...' — and then something inside your mind breaks;

'I must make love to the Owner... Make love... Love the Owner...' — you gasp, realising how good it would be to be someone's toy for naughty things. Yes, that is your purpose now. You squeak in delight.


What do you do now?


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