A Present for Mike

Mike and I had a very peculiar relationship. Of course, he was hundreds of miles away, so we never really had the chance to meet up. A person might ask, why Mike, then? Why not someone closer? Well, Mike and I shared a particular type of fetish, and I wasn't too keen on the risk of sharing that fetish with your average sexual partner. The thing was: Mike and I loved spandex. More than that: we loved leotards, and I was particularly enthused about obtaining the feminine shape under a perfectly-fitted zentai. Call it crazy, but I couldn't get enough of the idea, nor the feeling.

Did I consider myself a woman? Not in the traditional sense, no. I just liked the titillation, the transformation into a doll--a curvaceous sexual object to be exploited, and nothing else. Mike was willing to humor that desire of mine, and in fact, played into it rather enthusiastically.

You could say we took it slow at first. We both had our own gear that we brought to our videos calls, and like the subservient object I wanted to be, I dressed exactly as Mike ordered. Light sexual interest and the occasional long-distance call used to be enough for me, but Mike nurtured my desire to be a perfect, faceless spandex woman more than I ever expected. As we continued talking, and fantasizing, and as I submitted more to his will, our video calls became more constant. I craved his attention, but more than that, I craved becoming his. I wanted to be his plaything--and that meant giving away all my personal desires for what he craved.

Tuck your cock back, he said once. I didn't even flinch, I was so into the scene. Without waiting, I eagerly tucked my cock back just before getting dressed. And after that night, I was never allowed to have a cock again. I was elated by the development. After that point, I'd dressed up in pantyhose, zentai, leotards, the works--all cockless. And I got better at it, making my crotch flatter, tucked tighter, exaggerating that little triangle of a gap between my thighs and wondering how I could make it bigger.

I was possibly more voracious with the sport than Mike asked. But then Mike leaned into my tenacity, and kept asking for more, and more. I took it so far that I would tuck even when off the call, as instructed by Mike himself. Into my daily life.

"You could use more gear," Mike noted once in a call. I was posing on my bed for him, fully dressed, and didn't know understand what he meant. I asked. "I like your clothes, but they're a little amateur. I'd like you in something shinier, and tighter. Tailored to your body."

I sighed at the comment. I wanted that too, but I just wasn't in a place where that was financially possible. "I do too, I just can't afford it right now." As I continued to turn and show him every angle of me in the most seductive way possible, he was silent in thought.

"I'm going to send you a package," he said bluntly, and I paused in place. I felt my cock pulse instinctively--no, my boypussy. An aspiring doll couldn't use such masculine language. Almost intuitively, Mike could sense what I was feeling. "I want to buy you a few outfits, and when I do, I will own you. You will effectively be indebted to me, morally speaking. You will not only be my doll in theory, but in practice. I will own you and your image."

"I-" I started, at a loss for words. "I would be so grateful. I'd be yours completely."

"I am going to make you perfect. In fact, I am going to make your more of a doll than you ever anticipated," he continued, and I couldn't help it--somehow, despite the layers and the tuck, I creamed myself at the very thought, moaning unexpectedly on my bed, where I was posing. "Good girl. I see--you like that."

The process afterward was markedly less sexy as I took my measurements and sent them Mike's way, but I could feel the culmination of Mike and my efforts build as he composed an order and, eventually, sent it my way. He instructed me to not open it until we were in a call.

When it arrived, I scheduled away that weekend for the two of us. I lived alone, and could theoretically wear Mike's gear for days. He instructed my first to wear a sheer, tan bodysuit made of pantyhose, which covered everything from the neck down. I was already tightly tucked.

"I'm ready," I told him, and he nodded, instructing me to inspect the first item in the top of the open box.

"You should put these on in the order you picked them up, from top to bottom," he explained. I really didn't know what to expect.

The first box was possibly one of the most exciting, but I couldn't determine that for sure yet. Inside held a pair of tan underwear with exaggerated hip and butt pads, which strategically extended down to part of my thigh to make the transition into my skin more natural.

"Step into them, now, and don't cum. Or else you'll be punished," he ordered. With hands trembling in anticipation, I opened them and positioned my legs accordingly, placing one into each leg hole. Without much to pause for, I luxuriated in the process of pulling them up over my knees, experiencing the sensation of the silky-smooth fabric becoming tights over my skin, just until they fit right into place. The pads felt natural and skin-like, and the crotch exaggerated my tuck in a way that none of my other tights or panties could've--they felt made for me.

I couldn't stop myself from touching my new body. I couldn't help but moan aloud as I saw myself in the reflection of a mirror I kept against the wall as my new body took form.

"You're becoming a woman, Andrew. You're becoming my doll. Do you feel it taking over your body? Becoming permanent?" he asked. I fully believe in that permanence--of course, it was all fantasy, but I wanted it to be real. I wanted it for myself, but I also desperately wanted. to please Mike. I could barely respond as I ran my hand over my new hips and slid them into my perfectly flat crotch. Unlike before, there was no indication that a cock even existed; that I ever boasted manhood in the first place. How bizarre! "Next item," he instructed.

In the same box, beneath the hips pads, was a silicone bust--it looks something like a life vest, with a head hole and attached breasts approximately my size. Not unrealistically large, but definitely not small. I never even thought about having breasts, but my god, they felt so real. I looked at Mike's expression in the video call and he merely nodded in affirmation, spending no effort in commanding me to wear the item because he knew I already wanted to. Without waiting, I placed my head through the hole and situated the breasts over my own flat chest, making small adjustments as I went. Because it was silicone, the material didn't simply hang loosely around my chest. After pressing the material against my skin for a moment, it stuck just fine, and there I had it: the female form, completed. Or so I thought.

"One last item in that box," Mike pointed out. I flinched in surprise and glanced over to find, surprise surprise, a corset in a skin tone not far from my own. Picking it up, I knew it must've had some unforgiving steel boning, because it was tough. But it also looked like it would lay flat on my body once properly worn, which meant it would look good beneath a zentai. I didn't waste time donning this for Mike. While I was worrying about not being able to cinch it tight enough, I intentionally pushed all those thoughts out of my brain. No negativity allowed.

It was easier than I expected it to be. Weirdly easier. As I buckled together each strap, pulling it as tight as reasonably possible, I saw my shape exaggerate yet again, giving me an hourglass figure I couldn't ignore.

It was hard not to cum on the spot. After the last buckle was in place, I was feeling over my new body, all of the components a near-perfect flesh tone. They blended together beautiful; no evident seams or flaws. It looks like soft, supple, hairless skin. I played with my tits eagerly, yearning for the roundness to be real--at least for the fantasy, at least temporarily. I looked beautiful. I looked like a woman.

"Next box, doll. I know you'll like this next piece."

The next box was easy to open, and inside lay a perfectly pink, wet-looking zentai. I didn't have anything as high quality as this! Just touching it, watching how its shiny sheen reflected the light so effortless, I gawked.

"This item was very expensive," Mike informed me. "By wearing this, you are fully submitting to the fact that I now own you. That Andrew no longer exists, and you are my object. In effect, I have paid for you. I have paid for a living doll. Understand?"

"I do, sir," I say in a breathy voice, transfixed on the material.

"Now, this suit was made for your new body, not your old body. It highlights and accentuates every curve, and pulls in with every cinch. It is slightly thicker than your usual suit, and will take time to put on accordingly. Are you ready?"

I nodded, giving him a serious glance. At that, I opened the zipper and moved the suit around to the proper orientation. Curiously, I saw a pair of pink heels attached to the suit, blending perfectly into the material of the ankle. I didn't mind the look. As I pushed each leg into the proper position, I took note of the resistance of the material--it really was tight, and very unforgiving. I knew I would fit perfectly, but until my foot and lower leg finally popped into place, I held my doubts. After that point, I reviewed how it fit.

It was absurdly perfect. I realized, too, that there were no seams in this suit. I couldn't make heads or tails of how that was possible! Perhaps it was a new innovation in textiles technology? On top of that, the way the material felt cool and silky and tight over my skin, even after a minute of wearing the legs, was marvelous. It felt like the very first moment I even put it on, constantly. I was obsessed. I was impatient to get the rest on by that point.

I stood up, feeling the heels underfoot. They were unforgivingly steep, and while I'd worn heels before, I never felt as comfortable in them as I did now. It felt like a contradiction. I pulled up the thighs of the suit one by one, feeling positively transformed, watching the material glide over my new legs.

I didn't realize something: as I pulled the material over my thighs, I shouldn't have felt the silky material. After all, the fake hip, thigh, and butt pads should've stopped the feeling. But I was too far gone to really notice anything.

Then came the crotch. This was especially hard, because my ass was now so fat while the waist of the suit was dramatically thin. Mike luxuriated in how I struggled, moving the material up inch by inch, section by section. Just until--pop! The suit slinked upward to my waist, finally settling into the perfect position.

I nearly came on the spot as it seemingly ascended on its own. I really could've nut right there, despite the layers and the tucked cock. Something about the sensation rattle me to my core, the way it fit unnaturally well. Pulling the material over the breasts was a breeze, and as I fit my arms and hands into the sleeves of the suit, I felt it all coming together. I jumped up and down a few times, feeling the weight of my new tits against my chest, watching as the perfectly-fitted pink material hugged them and reflected light.

There was a hood attached to this suit, too, and while I was looking forward to putting it on, I also felt sad at the fact that my vision would be obscured.

"Turn around--let me see you pull the zipper up," Mike instructed, and I turned myself around. Little did I know, as I finagled with the zipper and pulled it up my spine, that the section of completed zipper magically disappeared from existence, making my back a perfectly smooth texture. Mike moaned at the sight. I knew he always liked this part of the process, but I didn't realize it was such a big hit this time.

Then it was just the head. I was about to pull it up without fanfare, but Mike paused me.

"I want to warn you, Andrew. The technology in the suit is special. When you finish pulling up the head, it'll tighten a bit. It's not uncomfortable--in fact, I think you'll enjoy it. But I don't want you to be surprised," he explained. I nodded, grateful. I knew technology had developed significantly in the past couple years, but I didn't realize how much it had progressed. "You have such a pretty face," he said randomly.

I blushed, and at that, I pulled the full hood over my face and tugged it back, taking the top of the zipper and excitedly pulling it to meet the other end.

And then I was done! I reviewed myself with sexual elation, rubbing my silky pink hands over my body with reckless abandon.

Then, it happened. The first change was that my sight cleared up--I was astonished! I was no longer restricted by a pink fabric haze. I could see my new body fully, and looking in the mirror, it felt surreal--to see clearly that my face was totally gone. I knew what was happening next, but I couldn't prepare for the reality of it.

The tightening sensation hit like a spectacular wave. First at my legs, then quickly expanding over the rest of my body, and I could feel the silky, cool spandex constrict over every inch of my body, becoming a second skin. Or rather--my actual new skin. It felt like ecstasy. It felt like a real, genuine transformation, and I thought to myself, I never imagined my fantasy becoming so close to real! My tuck pressed inward, my hips and ass pressed slightly outward. My breasts felt slightly larger, and all the imperfections of the padding, as well as the subtle folds in the fabric, completely disappeared. They were eradicated. All the air squeezed out of my body as the spandex finished tightening.

I didn't realize it was more than just technology. Something in me had changed. If I was even remotely aware of it, the luxurious sensations coursing through me didn't give me time to acknowledge it.

"You're mine now," Mike said, almost sinisterly. But I loved it.

"I'm yours. Completely, Mike," I moaned, feeling myself aggressively, unable to get enough of my spandex form.

"I don't think you realize how serious I am, Andrew. Why don't you feel for that zipper on your back?"

I was confused, wondering if this was still roleplay. It had to be! But as I followed his instruction and felt the back of my head, the thin metal zipper attached to the fabric was gone. It was completely smooth. To validate this further, I moved my hands lower to my back, noting that the fabric remained smooth.

"This is your new form now. You've become mine. I own you." And it all became clear.

I fell to my knees and orgasmed on the spot, somewhere deep inside. This is what I wanted. This is what I always wanted! I thought I could only have the fantasy; I thought that if my fantasy somehow came true in some magical alternate reality, that I would protest and panic. But no--knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was my reality, that it was the truth, I couldn't hold off any longer. The orgasm shuddered throughout my body furiously, echoing and continuing long past what would be expected of an orgasm. I was no longer a person. I was a doll. I was owned by Mike, through and through.

"I knew you would love it. How do you feel?"

"I feel perfect," I managed, trembling. I still had my old voice, but that had to be it. As I looked up to my image in the mirror, I saw that my facial features had smoothed out beneath the spandex, becoming perfectly flat. I felt the change, elated at the new anonymity, the perfect lack of humanity, of personhood. I was an object. I was Mike's object.

"I have two more items for you, doll. Take a final look."

I didn't know what could make this any more sensational. I turned to the massive box and found one more package inside. As I ripped it open, I found two things: a leotard, and a posture collar, both in a silky blue-black. The leotard was sleeveless, but it had a high collar, practically a turtleneck. Mike instructed for me to wear that first.

The bottom of the leotard fit like a thong, and exaggerated the lookof my tuck without physically manipulating it any further. It felt as smooth and tight as the zentai itself! And pulling the straps over my shoulders, I relished in the sensation of my new breasts trapped under multiple layers of spandex. They were perfectly round, perfectly pliant and fun, and I could barely remove my hands from them.

Second, the posture collar went over the leotard and the rest of the outfit. I wasn't familiar with the posture collar, but Mike guided me through how to fix it in place.

"Now buckle that together," Mike told me. "Then you'll be complete."

And I did so. And after I finished, I sensed my arms falling perfectly to my side on their own. My body held still--I was no longer in control of it.

"Get in the box, Andrew."

I did exactly as he asked. I sat in the box, tucking my knees to my chest.

"A special deliveryman will come by soon to package you up and send you my way."

"Thank you, Master," I said. I had the voice of a woman. Then, all went black.