There are 7 obscure symbols.
The Head Honcho of Dermadol Specialized Suits gazed at his younger sibling, who headed the design department, with a quizzical look. "Our customer has an unusual request," he started.
"What's that?" his brother inquired. "Couldn't they just do a somersault or something?"
"Nah. They want to be turned upside down while inside the suit," the Head Honcho explained sheepishly, gesturing towards an email they both opened up. "Check it out for yourself."
His brother gingerly went through the email, eyes widening at the bizarre request. "Hmm... This might be doable." He examined the pictures and diagrams, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Do you think they'd prefer short thighs or longer ones?"
"We can always make the thighs longer if need be," the Head Honcho shrugged. "Just add a solid latex extension up to the knee joint."
"Alright, I'll load it into CAD and see what I can come up with. It's gonna be complicated as it's a far cry from our usual suits," the designer responded, pointing to the bizarre doodle he sketched. "I'll have to decide which way we should arrange the elbows in this instance. If we make them too short, the thighs will be really long."
"We always have the option to lengthen them if necessary," the Head Honcho added. "I'll be interested to see if you manage to pull this off."
His brother pondered for a moment, "Hang on, let me check that over again." He scanned the email quickly, sketching a few more ideas on a scrap piece of paper.
"Alrighty. So, the woman's body is on her hands and knees, and the customer is within the doll face-to-body," he outlined, pointing to the bizarre sketch. "The elbows would inevitably become knees in this scenario. The thighs will either have to be really short or really long."
He considered the design implications. "We might need to find a happy medium, like we would for the head end of the doll. It's strange but detailed measurements help. And here's what we've got... The butt."
"Yep. If we tilt the head back considerably, it would match up well with the position of the doll." He turned back to the image of the woman on her hands and knees. "Certainly, we're going to have to ensure neck protection - a neck brace, if you will."
The Head Honcho nodded in agreement. "And the mouth. Yep. Where the mouth is, the customer wants the woman's pussy, and the nose lines up with the anal opening," he added, tracing a line on the sketch. "They want hole for their eyes, or to craft a thin layer of latex in that area."
"How bout those cheeks? You'll have to shape 'em around the butt area," the designer surmised, noting a space for the rest of the head. "Of course, ladies' rears tend to be a bit more cushy. Might need to reinforce it all to support the padded neck better."
"Sure, we can make it stronger," the Head Honcho agreed. "But if they sit down on it too hard, the doll's nose might break. I'll have to add some padding."
The Head Honcho took a moment to consider, "Our lady in question is a rather buxom one," he mused. "We'll need to balance out those hefty hips."
His brother nodded his head. "It works well for the shoulders and hips, but we've got to consider the thigh/butt area. Got any ideas?"
"We can build breasts in with the neck brace, sort of slid in," pronounced the Head Honcho. "If we do, it could provide some assistance in supporting the neck. And there's a hole there, ready and waiting for a dildo!
"Ah, yeah, that's true. Still—they've got to be cautious not to squash the nose if they're not careful with it," the designer sighed. "I'll have to add extra padding around it to protect it from shattering."
And so, the two brothers got down to business, chatting excitedly while crafting a body that was inverted in every way imaginable. "It'll be a challenge," the Chief Designer mused, "but at least they've supplied comprehensive measurements to help us out."
The artist pointed his pen at the display screen.
"We'll incorporate locking mechanisms onto the main joints for moveable capabilities."
He inserted the head between the wearer's legs and suggested, "A tube system could be implemented. We shouldn't assume they'll remain inside for too long, so a urinary outlet may be necessary." Additionally, "It could be beneficial to provide an alternate orifice."
The upper limbs would be fit over the legs of the wearer, and he advised, "Let's give the doll relatively long arms."
He took one last glance at the image.
"Fortunately, the elbows and knees flex in the proper directions; now, what's the budget?"
The manager informed him, and the artist gasped.
"To create something that urinates through its mouth, lifts fragrances through its anus, views through its buttocks, and defecates through a small, upper neck horizontal aperture."
The manager added, "Perhaps it's the oral copulation they're after?"
The artist continued, "One final feature; they'll need to breathe. Sending air via nasal tubes seems appropriate.
Might accommodate a more realistic urinary output by aligning the catheter tube to the urethral outlet."
The manager silently nodded authentication.
"Production should not pose any difficulty. The model's height is slightly greater than the user, as well as the width. The head and face can be painted by a specialist."
The artist rubbed his hands together, eager to commence work.
"How much money do you have and can you provide any additional information about the client?"
______________________________________________________
Indeed, I was the one. And I was utterly puzzled. In fact, the entire week proved bizarre. However, today was otherworldly odd.
I'd been following the hippie trail, staying in a filthy shared house above nonstop parties.
As months drifted by, I was completely drained, extremely wearied, and, to be honest, bored. I was exploring ways to relocate when someone stole my wallet in my inebriated sleep. Farewell, money cards and passport.
Nearly penniless, I began seeking employment. This was no minor feat.
No work permit. Barely knowing the language and possessing no connections beyond a group of slackers like myself. Days full of despair.
I'll spare you the depths of my anguish.
One of the residents upstairs mentioned a couple who sought assistance. She wasn't certain what they desired, but she had a phone number, and I had nearly enough mobile credit to text them.
They dispatched a taxi, which in hindsight, seemed generous of them.
The residence was neat, chic, isolated, and well-kept. "There's wealth here for sure," I surmised.
Inside the house, it was minimalist, streamlined, spotless. Not a single article out of place.
Entering a conversation with the stunning, jet-black, shiny, ponytailed woman I was now meeting, she shook my hand without looking away from me.
Even with my limited linguistic skills, I explained that I couldn't understand her, to which she made it clear she couldn't comprehend me either.
With no mutual virtual communication, the silence continued, and she gently shrugging. She retained a welcoming demeanor. Enigmatic, yet affable.
I, too, retreated into silence. However, she maintained her captivating celluloid smile.
Both remained mute, and she expressed comfort through silent gestures, shaking her head. Then a tall, well-built man appeared. Fellow sophisticatedly dressed, he also projected raw magnetism. They both emitted an air of authority and authority. Warmly demeaning, too.
Session concluded or for the most part, a blank canvas awaits my penciling it in, an incomplete picture awaits wholesome fill.
He spoke a bit of my language. We discovered each other's names. Using gestures, I asked about the job, and he explained, as best as I can rephrase:
"Her position requires her to be away from home frequently. You will perform some of her tasks during her absence. We anticipate you will commence work in about a week. In the meantime, take it easy. Enjoy yourself. Familiarize yourself with the setting."
"Would I be residing here?" I inquired, eager to leave the chaotic hippie hotel.
"Certainly." they answered. "Feel free to come over if you wish. Would you like to see your room?"
Excellent news!
Upon arriving, they measured me thoroughly as soon as I agreed to join.
"For my uniform", they clarified.
I assumed two impeccably dressed individuals would want their employees to look sharp. They seemed particularly concerned with obtaining an accurate reading of my head circumference. What sort of domestic role necessitates a hat?
All I could ponder was chauffeur, but that seemed like an enjoyable prospect if driving them around in a sleek sports car or something. Then I thought of cooking, but my culinary skills leave much to be desired. Their expectations, if that was the requirement, would not last a day.
However, life became less hectic following the unrelenting pressure of the previous couple of months. I had a bedroom at the rear. It was bright and clean and equipped with a television. I could rise whenever I pleased, resulting in plenty of sleeping. I could also self-serve meals.
They provided me with some spending money, which I spent on marijuana and alcohol. I wondered if they would be displeased, but aside from asking me to smoke outside, they appeared unconcerned with my actions.
I rarely interacted with them apart from the evening meal.
I gained a few pounds during the initial days, and they reduced my meals accordingly. They seemed somewhat obsessive about uniforms fitting perfectly if you ask me. But whatever.
And then one morning there was a delivery. Soon after, I was summoned into the main room of the house.
Then they bound me, and covered my eyes.
In truth, they first covered my eyes.
"The highly anticipated unveiling of the uniform!" I pondered as I stood, obedient before the cheerful woman holding a length of silky black fabric in her hands.
Then my hands were fastened behind my back and cuffed,
"What the absolute hell is this?" I was able to utter before a ball gag was strapped to my mouth.
Subsequently, it's tough to provide a detailed account of what occurred. Firstly, they secured me to a solid object. Then they eliminated my clothing. They released my hands but tied my arms so that my knuckles touched my shoulders.
Something weighty and restrictive was being drawn up my legs.
Whatever it was reached my waist, prompting something touching my crotch. I felt a tube being moved over my genitalia, followed by their attention focusing on my head end.
They maneuvered my short arm into something soft and stretchy, then my other arm. I could detect a rubbery scent. Simultaneously, the ball gag was removed.
I managed a brief, loud cry before a different object entered.
It seemed soft and versatile but pushed further in than the ball gag. It was thick at the base, keeping my teeth apart. I thrust my tongue up and felt...
Well, it felt like...
Nothing familiar. Then the pulling continued, yanking my head back and encasing something that encircled. The rubbery scent became overwhelming.
At the last moment, they took off the blindfold, and I perceived a flash of light, overwhelmingly intense.
Then, in an astonishing, unexplainable, bewildering manner, I was viewing the back of a pair of legs. I was incapable of moving or rotating my head any further. All sound was muted, leaving just the thudding of my heart.
They used a glue gun to fuse the overlaps in the top and bottom together. I could smell it. I sensed the heat of the hot glue around my waist, encasing me completely in this bewildering imbroglio. I struggled to move, but my movements were restricted to rocking from side to side minimally.
I saw them in front of me, but I could not speak. He held a video camera of some type. He stepped out of view, and She pressed a button on a remote control. Seconds later, a screen emerged in front of me.
Thus, dear reader, you are now fully caught up.
You can comprehend my bewilderment, correct?
I anticipate seeing myself, but on the screen, a bare woman lies flat on her stomach on a mattress.
Her head is positioned on a cushion. She possesses abnormally lengthy arms that are spread out in front of her.
He swivels the camera along and down, stopping at the deformed oval of breast before proceeding to the slim waist and rounded bottom.
Finally, he concludes at the feet, one of which he picks up, causing a corresponding pull on my elbow.
Why?
Now he bends the legs back firmly, elevating the doll's behind, and holy shit! The entire scenario suddenly makes perfect sense.
I push my tongue against the top of my mouth, feeling the bumps and ridges.
My God!
Urgently, I try to resist, but it proves futile. Every single attempt gets the doll to rock her behind in a highly inviting way.
The man recedes, records the naked doll swaying and moving her behind from side to side and up and down for a minute or so before approaching the head of the doll, adjusting my legs under me, slightly spreading them to establish a stable foundation.
The doll's head raises from the pillow and hangs, its dark hair swinging back and forth, almost reaching the bed.
The doll shakes her behind even more vigorously in this posture. It bosom heaves and jiggles.
The man has removed his entire clothing except for his unfastened shirt and his boxer shorts, which jut out even more than his muscular torso.
Mysteriously, he can manipulate my movements at will, but I remain perfectly stationary. Then I perceive him rotate something after adjusting a knee.
Fascinating how the mind operates under stress, isn't it? "A cheap Ikea wardrobe" was what came to mind when I saw it.
He hoists the doll's chin up, and I sense a tug in my groin. Her head now looks directly ahead.
Her jet black hair is arranged into a severe ponytail. Like the woman in front of me. She possesses the exact same face as well.
It could almost have been a backup head she had made for herself for an unknown reason.
Now he is close to me, and the screen presents the doll's region. The doll's vulva is flowing with my glistening saliva. It appears astonishingly lifelike.
He moves the camera back slightly, revealing the anus and cleft.
A pair of wide, stunned eyes unexpectedly glance before the camera changes focus.
Subsequently, the screen goes dark. The hand holding the camera rests at his side.
The other is resting gently on the woman who is now kneeling before him, one hand slipping down his shorts and the other elevating her skirt.
"Well, dearest," she says.
"What do you think would be the optimal attire for our new doll? Wedding gown? Swimsuit?"
"I believe the apparel you're wearing right now would fit her perfectly," comes his response.
She removes her attire in front of me and lays them on the bed. Humble, sophisticated, just as expected. Merely six things, panties, bra, stockings, stiletto heeled shoes, a refined white blouse, and a short pencil skirt.
She takes the panties off last, and places them on the doll first.
They are black lace and high-cut. The back is satiny black silk which may very well be silk.
This is bordered with lace at the leg-holes and waist.
A rectangular patch of soft grey fabric can be seen at the crotch, soaked with my drool in the middle.
She lifts them over the doll's feet and moves them up her legs towards my waiting face. Then they seem to expand like balloons due to being pulled out from the doll's body to get them over her buttocks.
Finally, I'm peering through the translucent lace edge, and a potent female odor sweeps through my nostrils from the still warm fabric now concealing the doll's ass and groin.
The final visible evidence of me vanishes behind a fragile lace and satin barrier.
Somewhere behind me, I can feel the garment being pulled up, and everything becomes snug. The object in my mouth is pushed in further and the back of the panties is pushed between the butt-cheeks, resting on the tip of my nose.
I can't help but observe as the doll gets dressed with a bra and blouse. All I can see is the slim black fabric creeping up their legs, causing my vision to narrow down to a small opening. This peppered with moments of absolute silence before they move on to attach the high heels onto the doll's feet after admiring the results.
A doll, crafted exceptionally well as to mimic real life, lies down on the bed sporting a delightful ensemble. Even from a distance, you'll notice its black skirted posterior swaying, almost as if teasing. And as you pay attention, it emits a few choked out moans and squeaks.
"That's astonishing!" he exclaims.
"She looks like a spitting image of you!"
"Mmmm..." She hums.
"But will this doll feel just like me?"
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Death's Angel, Part 4:
- Incident: Chapter 2
- A Never-ending Contest: Volume 1, Chapters 16-25
Source: www.nice-escort.de
