Latex-sheathed loli turned into a flesh-toilet

"Then, our first lesson will begin with learning how to properly display your body," Samuel said with a smile, picking up a bundle of dark red hemp rope from the pile of props. He didn't use any magic, but instead, he acted with his own hands. He lifted Yuna from the bed and made her kneel on the soft carpet in a humiliating posture, her full buttocks raised high. Yuna struggled desperately, only to find her body weak and powerless, unable to resist Samuel's strength. The cold rope began to wrap around her body, coil by coil. Samuel's technique was extremely skilled, as if he had practiced it thousands of times. He first used a binding method called "Master's Bind" to tightly secure Yuna's hands behind her back. This binding method forced the bound person to straighten their back, pushing their chest forward, making her already proud D-cup breasts appear even larger and more prominent. The rope dug deeply into her flesh, dividing her fair skin into ambiguous red marks. Two ripe cherries peeked from beneath the thin lace, trembling slightly with her rapid breaths. "No... don't..." Yuna's voice was tinged with tears. This feeling of her body being completely controlled, at the mercy of another, was more unbearable than death. Her dignity and honor as a hero were shattered at this moment. Samuel turned a deaf ear to her pleas. He admired his masterpiece and nodded with satisfaction. The Master's Bind not only restricted her hands but also, in a highly humiliating way, showcased her most proud physical features without reservation. "See, isn't this more beautiful?" he gently caressed Yuna's chest, which was pushed high by the binding, his tone like a whisper to a lover. "A perfect work of art should be adorned in the most fitting way." Next, he picked up another rope and began to bind her lower body. He tightly bound her thighs from the root with the rope, then pulled them upwards and secured them to the main rope behind her back, forming a standard M-shaped spread-leg position. This posture forced her legs apart, exposing her mysterious private garden to the air and Samuel's gaze without any concealment. That untouched, mysterious area had become slick with shame and fear. Transparent arousal fluid slid down her inner thighs, leaving damp spots on the carpet. "What a natural slut, already this wet just from being tied up," Samuel commented, dipping a finger into the fluid she had secreted, sniffing it, and then evaluating her in a tone of almost cruel tenderness. The words struck Yuna's heart like a sharp knife. She was consumed by shame and anger, her body trembling violently, tears streaming uncontrollably. She wanted to close her legs, to cover her most shameful parts, but under the restraint of the ropes, all her struggles were in vain. The more she struggled, the tighter the ropes became, and the feeling of complete domination brought her to the brink of collapse. Her heart screamed "no," her dignity wept, but her body betrayed her will. Stimulated by shame and fear, a strange tingling sensation began to rise from the depths of her lower abdomen, making her feel both unfamiliar and terrified. Samuel seemed very pleased with her expression at this moment. He didn't rush to the next step but let her remain in this shameful posture, kneeling on the ground. He then sat back on the sofa, picked up his wine glass, and, as if admiring a famous painting, savored every inch of her skin, every trembling detail born of humiliation. Time ticked by, each second an agony for Yuna. She could clearly feel Samuel's gaze, as tangible as a physical touch, roaming over her naked body, lingering particularly on her unguarded private parts. The air seemed to thicken, and the sweet, cloying scent, mixed with the aroma of her own shame, made her dizzy. Her body's betrayal became more pronounced. The tingling sensation had spread from her lower abdomen to her entire body. Her legs grew weak and unsteady, and the cherries on her chest had hardened like stone, displaying their desire to their owner through the thin lace. Most unbearable for her was that the sacred place beneath her was now gushing more arousal fluid like a broken dam, wetting a small patch of the carpet. "Why... why is this happening..." Yuna screamed in despair in her heart. I am the hero who will defeat the Demon King, the last hope of humanity. How can my body... how can it have such a vile reaction to this demon? This immense pain of body and mind separation caused a crack in her once firm will. Just as Yuna was about to be completely submerged by shame, Samuel finally made his next move. He put down his wine glass, took out a silver metal stand from the prop pile, and a wooden object that looked like a saddle but was more strangely shaped, covered in protrusions. "It seems your body can't wait any longer," Samuel's voice echoed in her ear. "Then, let's play a more interesting game." He fixed the metal stand in front of Yuna, then mounted the strange wooden saddle, the so-called "wooden horse," onto the stand. The narrow, sharp ridge at the top of the wooden horse was perfectly aligned with Yuna's already slick private parts. "No... don't... please..." Yuna finally broke down, abandoning her futile struggles and beginning to beg. She didn't know what it was, but her woman's intuition told her it would bring an experience more terrifying than death.

The ropes on either side were then looped around the base of her thighs, converging behind her at her tailbone, where they met the crotch rope and were tied into a complex knot. From there, the rope snaked upwards along her spine, connecting to the loop around her neck, forming a complete, net-like structure that bound her entire torso securely. Kikkō-tsuna. Once finished, Samuel stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Yuna's body was now

The person in the mirror… that "thing"… is it really her? It was a naked, pale, almost translucent body. Still slightly flushed pink from her recent bath, like an overripe peach, alluring and tempting. Her breasts, impossibly full, stood high and proud, their tips erect and a vibrant, alluring crimson from the stimulation she’d endured. A slender waist, rounded hips, and long legs – every curve was as perfect as if sculpted by the gods. But this perfect body was currently contorted into a grotesque and humiliating posture. Her limbs were folded, like an… an animal. The marks left by the latex straps on her elbows and knees were still visible, a stark reminder of the position she’d been forced to crawl in. The metal collar around her neck remained, the tag engraved with "Demon King's Private Cum-Whore Bitch Meat-Vessel" dangling against her collarbone, swaying gently with her breath. Her mouth was still pried open by that damned gag, her tongue lolling out, saliva flowing uncontrollably, making her chin and neck slick and wet. And the most unbearable thing was her face. That face was still so pure, so lovely, like a girl next door, like an innocent maiden untouched by the world. Snow-white skin, delicate features, eyes like rubies – it was a face that should inspire tenderness. But now, this face was a mess of tear tracks and drool. The ruby-like eyes, once filled with determination and light, now held only confusion, fear, humiliation, and… a sliver of desire she refused to acknowledge. Is this her? This naked creature, with her limbs folded, wearing a dog collar, drooling, her eyes vacant and pathetic… is this truly Yuna, the once revered hero? "No…" Yuna’s mind screamed in despair, but all that escaped her lips was a muffled "Mmmph." She didn't want to look. She didn't want to see the pathetic reflection of herself in the mirror. She tried to close her eyes, tried to turn her head away, but Samuel’s hand gently cupped her chin, forcing her to stare. "Look closely," his voice whispered in her ear, deep and resonant, like a demon's seductive murmur. "This is you now. This is you, Yuna. Not some hero, not some savior, just a pathetic little bitch I've caught." "Mmmph… mmmph…" Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes again, tracing paths down her cheeks, mingling with her saliva, dripping onto the black latex mat. She wanted to protest. To tell him he was wrong. To tell him she was still the hero, that her companions were waiting for her, that her mission was unfinished. But looking at the pathetic figure in the mirror, the words refused to come. Because the mirror didn't lie. The her in the mirror, indeed, did not look like a hero. "Do you know, little Yuna," Samuel's voice continued, "the reason you were caught, the reason you've become this way, isn't because I'm so powerful, but because… this is who you always were." Yuna blinked, not understanding. "You've been suppressing yourself," Samuel's fingers traced a path down her back, sending a shiver through her. "Suppressing your body's desires, suppressing your inner cravings. You've disguised yourself as a noble, strong, unassailable hero, but that's not the real you." "The real you is this – the one in the mirror – craving to be dominated, craving to be played with, craving to cast aside all responsibility and pretense, to become a simple creature that only needs to obey and enjoy." "No… it's not…" Yuna desperately denied it in her mind, but the voice felt weak and powerless even to herself. Because… her body was betraying her. Just from Samuel's light touch on her back, her body began to heat up. The desires, forcibly interrupted in the bathroom, reawakened, stirring within her like an awakened beast. Her breathing grew ragged, her core began to involuntarily secrete shameful fluids, and her nipples hardened once more, as if silently begging to be touched. She hated this body. Hated how sensitive it was, hated how weak-willed it was, hated how it reacted so shamefully to her enemy's touch. But deeper within, in the very core of her being, a faint voice whispered— *So good… so good… I want more… want more…* This voice filled Yuna with a profound terror.

Samuel walked to one side of the room and pulled aside an inconspicuous curtain on the wall. Behind the curtain was another transparent glass display case. Inside the case stood another humanoid figure, completely encased in latex. Yuna's pupils contracted instantly— It was Mika. The shield warrior from their team. The shy girl who always hid behind everyone, her voice a mere whisper. The Mika who, despite her petite and delicate build, possessed terrifying strength, capable of lifting a holy silver greatshield taller than herself with one hand. But the Mika now... was utterly transformed. Her delicate body was clad in a latex suit entirely different from Yuna's. It was a more constricting, more revealing, more... bestial outfit. Her already small limbs were folded into the shape of canine paws, forcing her body into a lower, animalistic posture. Because her frame was already petite, this pose made her resemble a small, pathetic pet dog. She wore a full dog-head mask, completely obscuring her usually flushed little face, leaving only her eyes visible. Those eyes, which once shyly avoided others' gazes... were now vacant and lost, like two soulless glass beads. Various straps and buckles adorned her body, fixing her in a specific pose. Her already small breasts were tightly bound by straps, and her hips were thrust high. Most ironically, her hands—those hands that once wielded a thousand-pound greatshield, possessing terrifying strength—were now encased in latex dog paws, hanging limply at her sides, unable to lift anything. At her mouth—the muzzle of the dog-head mask—was a bone-shaped toy. The girl who was always too shy to speak could now only hold a toy like a

After finishing her meal, Samuel led her by the chain to a new contraption that had appeared in the center of the room. It was a large platform covered with a thick layer of transparent latex sheeting, resembling a giant vacuum-sealed bag. Beside it lay a pump, tubes, and a collection of sex toys: a vacuum pump with suction cups, a remote-controlled vibrator, a thick vibrating dildo, breast vacuum cups, and several bundles of specially made latex restraints. "Today, we're playing 'vacuum packing'," Samuel's voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "I'm going to put you entirely inside this latex bag, then vacuum seal it, leaving you completely immobile. Then we'll add some toys to fill you up from the inside and tighten you from the outside. You'll become a

He placed her on the edge of the bed and began to undo her restraints, layer by layer. First, the breathing tube and hood were removed. Fresh air flooded her lungs, and Yuna gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No... please don't... don't let anyone see me like this..." "See you like what?" Samuel's finger wiped away her tears. "You are my property. What's wrong with displaying property?" He continued to peel off her latex suit. The heavy black latex was stripped away, revealing a lighter, thinner latex lining underneath – another entirely new ensemble. This time, it was a catwoman style: a glossy black latex catsuit with a heart-shaped cutout at the chest, completely exposing her ample 36D breasts. Her nipples were adorned with delicate rings and chains, the other ends of which were attached to her collar. The lower half featured a crotchless design, with her cunt and ass still plugged, but with smaller, more exquisite vibrating dildos and beads. A slender cat tail extended from her back, its tip a fluffy black pom-pom, connected to a vibrator at the base. A cat-ear headband sat on her head, and her collar was replaced with a leather one featuring a bell. Yuna looked down at herself, trembling with shame. This outfit was more revealing, more... professional than the previous bunny girl and maid costumes. It was like an outfit designed specifically for some kind of performance. Her body was sculpted to perfection – her slender waist cinched, her hips lifted, her breasts fully displayed, her private parts wide open. The cat tail emerged from between her buttocks, swaying gently with her tremors. "Come, stand up and show me," Samuel helped her off the bed. Yuna's legs were so weak she could barely stand. The vibrating dildo in her cunt throbbed with a low frequency, making her feel as if her inner walls were being rubbed with every step. She stumbled to the mirror and saw herself – a completely latexed, sexy catwoman, ears perked, tail swaying, breasts exposed, cunt gaping. All dignity stripped away, leaving only pure lust and seduction. "Today, we're going to a small theater," Samuel embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, his fingers gently playing with the chains on her nipples. "There will only be a few special audience members. What you need to do is simple – go on stage, perform some actions as I instruct, and then be played with by the toys until you climax." "No!" Yuna turned, genuine fear in her eyes this time. "Don't... please... don't let anyone see me... don't let me be seen being..." She was startled by her own reaction. When Samuel played with her alone, though shameful, it was at least private. But to be seen by others – strangers, watching her on stage, watching her debased climax – "This will make you understand your identity more clearly," Samuel interrupted, his voice still gentle but unyielding. "A toy, a display, a flesh-pot, should not have privacy or shame. You need to adapt to this." He put a blindfold on her – a semi-transparent black lace that allowed the silhouette to be seen but not the details. Then, he tied a long, thin silver chain around her neck, holding the other end in his hand. The small theater was located in a secluded wing of the Demon King

"Training for today is here," Samuel pointed to her mouth. Yuna froze. Her mouth? What did he mean? Samuel took a small metal hook from the box. It was curved, like a fishhook, but not as sharp. There were small balls on both ends and a thin rod in the middle. He walked up to Yuna, gently lifted her chin, and tilted her head back. "This is called a septum ring," he said. "It goes through your nose and connects to the collar. If you lower your head, it will pull on your nose, and it will hurt. So once you put it on, you'll have to keep your head tilted up." Yuna stared at the hook in terror. Through her nose? Like a cow? She had seen cows on farms with nose rings, used for control. Was she going to be treated like that now? Like livestock... "No... don't..." she whispered, her voice trembling. Samuel didn't say anything. He just wiped her nose with an alcohol swab. The cold sensation made her shiver. Then he pinched her septum – the piece of cartilage in the middle of her nose. His fingers tightened slightly, causing her a bit of pain. She closed her eyes nervously, feeling the needle tip press against her skin. A sting. A sharp, brief sting. The metal pierced through her septum, from one side to the other. Yuna cried out, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. It didn't hurt that much, really, much less than her nipple piercings, but the sensation of being pierced made her feel sick, made her feel like she had truly become... a toy, with holes punched through her at will. Samuel quickly fitted the septum ring, the small balls on each end resting on either side of her nostrils, the rod lying beneath her nose. He then attached a thin string to the back of the collar, the other end of which was connected to the septum ring. Yuna tried to lower her head – the string immediately tightened, pulling on her nose, a sharp, aching pain that forced her to quickly lift her head. "See," Samuel said, "it hurts if you lower your head, so you have to keep it up." Yuna kept her head tilted back, tears streaming down her cheeks, flowing into her ears. She stared at the ceiling, feeling like a fish caught by its mouth, forced to look up, mouth agape, waiting to be dealt with. It was so humiliating... truly, so humiliating... Samuel took another item from the box – a gag. It was round, made of rubber, slightly smaller than her mouth, with a hole in the middle. He held the gag and brought it to her lips. "Open your mouth." Yuna bit her lip and shook her head. She didn't want to... didn't want to put that thing in her mouth... Samuel sighed and picked up the remote from the tray – Yuna recognized it; it controlled the toy inside her. He pressed a button. Yuna's body jolted. A vibration came from her pussy – it was the vibrator, put in the night before, she had almost forgotten about it. The vibration was very light, just a reminder that the toy was still inside, but the familiar stimulation made the roots of her legs go weak, and she couldn't help but let out a moan. "Open your mouth," Samuel said again, "or I'll turn it to the highest setting." Yuna's tears flowed even more fiercely. She knew she had no choice. If he turned it to the highest setting, she would writhe on the bed like a bitch in heat, which would be even more shameful than holding the gag. She slowly opened her mouth. The gag was pushed in. It wasn't large, just enough to force her mouth open, preventing her from closing it. Saliva began to flow uncontrollably. The rubber had a strange taste, a little bitter, a little astringent. She felt so nauseous she wanted to vomit, but she couldn't, because the gag was blocking her throat. Saliva dripped down the corners of her mouth, onto her nightgown, wetting a small patch. "Hold it," Samuel patted her face, then began to change her clothes. Today's outfit was a maid uniform – a black dress, a white ruffled apron, and a white headband. The skirt was very short, only reaching the top of her thighs, revealing her panties when she bent over. The back was a low-cut design, exposing her entire back, with only a few crisscrossing straps. The neckline of the dress was very low, pushing her breasts up to form a deep cleavage, her nipples almost peeking out from the edge of the fabric. Samuel put on her white thigh-high stockings, black patent leather shoes, and then tied white lace wrist cuffs around her wrists. Around her neck, in addition to the collar, he added a black choker with a small silver bell hanging from it. After she was dressed, Yuna was pulled in front of a mirror. The person in the mirror was a stranger to her – the black maid uniform, the white apron, the headband on her head, she looked like a proper maid. But she kept her head tilted back, a septum ring under her nose, a gag in her mouth, saliva constantly dripping down, her eyes red, her face streaked with tears. A proper maid wouldn't look like this. A proper maid wouldn't have her nose pierced, wouldn't drool with a gag in her mouth. She looked like... like a sex doll maid. A slutty toy specifically designed to serve her master.

"Eat something," he said, "today's training will be long." Aila looked at the tray, hesitating. She wanted to refuse, to show a little defiance, but she was truly hungry. Yesterday's exertion had been immense, and her stomach rumbled now. And... and Samuel had said "training will be long." If she didn't eat, she feared she wouldn't be able to endure. Slowly, very slowly, she lowered her head, picked up the bread with her mouth, and took small bites. Her hands were bound in mittens, useless. She could only eat like an animal, with her mouth. This posture made her face burn with shame, but she was used to it now. For days, this was how she ate: kneeling, head bowed, picking up food with her mouth, like a real pet rabbit. After she finished, Samuel lifted her from the cage and placed her on the floor. He changed her into a new latex suit – still a black full-body one, but this time the opening at the chest was larger, exposing her breasts completely, the bells on her nipples swinging more noticeably. The opening at the crotch was also larger, revealing her cunt and ass, ready for "use." Aila looked at her body, so ashamed she wanted to close her eyes. She looked like... like a sex toy made for play. Where it should be revealed, it was all out, and where it should be covered, the latex clung tightly, outlining lewd curves. Samuel led her by the hand to the other side of the room. Something new stood there – a hobby horse, but not an ordinary one. It was triangular, with a sharp saddle, covered in rough leather. In the middle of the saddle was a protrusion, like a spine, designed to fit... to fit right there. Aila looked at the hobby horse, and fear surged within her. She had seen such things before, in lewd picture books – they were used to punish women, making them ride it, bearing their entire weight on their private parts, both painful and shameful. "No... no..." she whispered, her voice trembling, "I don't want to ride that..." Samuel ignored her refusal. He simply lifted her and placed her on the horse. Aila struggled, but her hands were bound in mittens, and her legs were tied in an M-shape, rendering her powerless. She was placed on the horse, her cunt landing directly on the saddle's protrusion. The sharp leather dug into her labia, causing both pain and a distending pressure. "Ah—!" she screamed. Her body instinctively tried to escape, but Samuel had already secured her legs to the sides of the horse. She couldn't move, forced to sit there, her entire weight pressing down on her private parts. The horse was just high enough that her toes couldn't reach the ground. She was suspended, all her weight on her cunt. The protrusion on the saddle dug deep into her labia and clitoris. The rough leather chafed her most tender areas, causing both pain and an unbearable itch, making her tremble all over. Samuel then produced a few more items – a metal hook, curved like a fishhook; and two transparent suction cups, connected by tubes. He first attached the nose hook. The metal hook passed through her nostrils, hooking onto her septum, and then a rope connected it to the collar at the back of her head. The rope was pulled taut, forcing her to keep her head tilted back, chin raised, neck extended, like a small animal being led. She tried to lower her head, but each time she did, the nose hook yanked her nose fiercely, bringing tears to her eyes. "Ow... it hurts..." she whimpered, her voice muffled by the upward tilt of her head, like a real pet rabbit crying out. Then came the suction cups. Samuel attached the two suction cups to her nipples. They gripped tightly, drawing her nipples in, and then began to pump – not in short bursts, but continuously, rhythmically, as if... as if milking her. Aila's eyes widened. Milking? Was he treating her like a dairy cow? "I'm not a cow!" she screamed, "Let go of me! I'm human! Not livestock!" Samuel remained silent, simply pressing a remote control. The hobby horse began to rock slowly, back and forth, back and forth. The protrusion on the saddle ground against her cunt, the rough leather scraping her clitoris and labia, bringing intense stimulation. At the same time, the rabbit tail plug in her ass began to move – not vibrating, but thrusting, as if something was entering and exiting her intestines, deep and fast. "Ah—!" Aila screamed, her body convulsing violently. The triple stimulation hit her simultaneously – the hobby horse grinding her cunt, the plug thrusting her ass, the suction cups milking her nipples. Her mind went blank, leaving only the sensations in her body. Pain and pleasure intertwined, making her unable to distinguish between torture and enjoyment. The chains began to pull. As she rocked on the horse, her body undulating, the thin silver chains tightened with her movements, yanking fiercely at her nipples and clitoris. The three bells rang frantically, their sound urgent and chaotic, as if mocking her debauchery. Jingle-jingle— jingle-jingle— With each ring, the pleasure intensified. Aila bit her lip, trying not to cry out, but her body betrayed her. She could feel her cunt contracting wildly, her juices flowing uncontrollably, dripping down the saddle of the horse and onto the floor. Her nipples were red and swollen from the suction cups. Each pump drew a strange liquid from them – not milk, but clear, sticky, like... like the effect of an aphrodisiac. She didn't know what it was, only that as the liquid flowed, her body became more sensitive. The grinding of the horse felt better, the thrusting of the plug more comfortable, and the milking of the suction cups made her more desperate. Time ticked by. Aila didn't know how long she had been on the horse, only that she had orgasmed several times. Each climax sent tremors through her body, her juices gushing, her screams hoarse. But the horse didn't stop, the plug didn't stop, the suction cups didn't stop. She could only continue to endure, to be played with, to sink further into the abyss of pain and pleasure. Her nipples were sucked until they were red and swollen, like two ripe cherries. Each pump made her want to cry from the pain. Her cunt was raw from the grinding, the leather of the saddle stained with her juices and blood. Each scrape was both painful and exhilarating. Her ass was sore and swollen from the plug's thrusting, her intestinal walls clinging tightly to the object, as if both holding on and pushing away. She tilted her head back, unable to lower it due to the nose hook, tears streaming down her cheeks and into her ears. She stared at the ceiling, her mind a chaotic mess – shame, anger, resentment, and... and a sliver of twisted satisfaction.