Wendy crept carefully through the mansion. The vixen’s footsteps were light, only the creak of her red latex suit betraying her motion. For the last few months, Wendy and her fairy friend Meeta had been plagued by contraptions that crushed, captured, shifted and otherwise complicated their lives. While more than a few of the changes turned out to be an interesting distraction, if not for her friend’s mastery of magic any one of them could have been a permanent and very embarrassing predicament. After a bit of snooping and investigation, she determined that Sammy was the architect of the various transformative mechanisms. Considering how much trouble she could have caused, Wendy felt as though it was only fair that she get a taste of her own medicine.

She tiptoed into what she imagined must have been Sammy’s very most private room, given the assortment of apparatus on display. She grinned as she opened a cabinet. A tall bottle clearly labeled “Lubricant” stood on the top shelf. She plucked it and, with the utmost care, peeled the label. A deft slip of her thumb pasted it down on a new bottle, which she stowed in the lube’s place. She giggled to herself as she tossed the lube in her bag. It would be a shame she wouldn’t be around to see the aftermath of her little prank, but it was enough just to know that justice had been served.

~~~

A long, tiring day of research and development had come to an end. The stress of the job was really starting to get to Sammy. Stress was nothing new, though, and the clever redhead had long ago learned just the sort of thing could ease away the stresses and worries of the day. She opened the door to her inner sanctum and gave a quick glance in each direction. What she needed was a little alone time. As nice as it was to have so devoted a maid as Charlotte around, sometimes the mistress of the house needed to tend to herself.

Satisfied she would not be interrupted, she shut the door and clicked on the lights.

“Ah… how I’ve missed this place,” Sammy said dreamily, pacing through the well-equipped gallery of fun equipment.

It was popular to call a room like this a “dungeon,” but for Sammy, it had always been more of a playground. She kept some of her most enjoyable gadgets in here. A large vat stood in the far corner. She’d lost track of how much latex she’d melted down in it to cast into various new toys and garments. A wide set of rollers with twin reels of plastic had a place of honor near the center of the room. Any time something, or someone, needed to be rendered compact, durable, and easily stored, a trip through the large-format laminator did the job. She liked to keep it ready to go, with a sheet of plastic all laid out just in case the potential vict… subject turned out to be difficult. All of the toys were great fun, but right now, her mind was set on the contents of her favorite cabinet of all.

She pulled open the doors of the wardrobe and basked in the gleam of its contents. Cat suits. Corsets. Opera gloves. Ballet boots. Each of the tight, slick, stretchy and shiny. A gallery of plugs and dildos stood like tools in a workshop. Ball gags shining like polished apples dangled from hooks. She leaned forward and gathered up one of the glossy catsuits. She buried her nose in it and took a deep whiff of the intoxicating aroma of latex, polish, and lube. Already she could feel the pressures of the day begin to unravel. And the best part was yet to come.

She made some careful selections. A mid-size, conical butt plug. Nothing too challenging, but enough to make it interesting. A devilish grin curled her lips as she selected her largest dildo. It had been a tough week. She’d earned it. A nice red ball gag would do nicely. And for the outfit? Yes, her black hood for starters. A matching, high-gloss, black cat suit, custom made to hug her curves perfectly. Those would go nicely with a precarious pair of ballet boots. And, to make sore the night went as smoothly as possible, a fresh bottle of lube.

Sammy stripped out of her day-to-day attire and shivered lightly in the chill air of her playroom. First, the buttplug. She popped the top on her lube and drizzled some onto the silicone nub.

“Oh… this must be a new formulation,” she mused. “Nice and thick. I like it.”

She shut her eyes and released a soft breath as the plug eased through her pucker and sunk delightfully into place. Next was the part that would make the rest of the evening so lovely. Again, a healthy dollop of lube dripped from the bottle to coat the smooth surface of her favorite dildo. She smiled dreamily as she teased its tip against her slit, making sure to give herself a nice glaze of lube before pressing it between her folds. She took it nice and slow, trembling as it filled her. Slow, gentle nudges drove it home, easing it deeper and deeper until it was almost entirely hidden in her body’s sensual embrace.

The catsuit was next. She filled her palm with lube and gave her bare skin a liberal coating from neck to toe. She didn’t stop until every inch of her was glistening with the slick coating.

“Lovely…” she purred as she slathered it over her midriff and up and down each thigh. “This new stuff stays put so much more nicely. It doesn’t run like the old mix. I’ll have to write them a nice letter praising their new formula.”

She carefully bunched and rolled her catsuit and slipped her feet into the legs. Bit by bit, with the steady hand and eye for detail of a sculptor, she stretched and smoothed the suit up her legs. The lube allowed it to slip and slide just a bit, perfectly flattening and adjusting to her skin like it was a part of her. She worked her way up her legs and began to plaster it against her flat belly. Now and again she had to stop and take a moment to drink in the sensations as the tug of the layer of latex on her crotch combined with the dildo that was stretching her to send a bolt of pleasure up her spine. This outfit was always a sinful delight, but something about it was so much more intense this time. The creak and stretch of the latex seemed to cling so much more tightly, embracing her like a lover who refused to let go.

Her hands were still dripping with lube as she pointed her toes and slipped them into the ballet boots and tightened their belts. A nice layer of lube coated her face and hair before she slid the hood in place. She looked in the mirror and grinned. Only her lips and eyes were visible to the world now. Everything else was wrapped in a layer of thick rubber. Even her closest friends wouldn’t know her as anything more than a rubber doll. And she wasn’t even done.

A corset topped her suit, pinching her already slim waist into a wasp-ish hourglass. She shuddered at the sharp flavor of the lube that had found its way to the ball gag before she slipped it on. She didn’t remember the stuff tasting quite so bad, but if that was the price of the lovely, thick, warm new lube, she would take it.

With the full ensemble in place, she took her first teetering steps on her pointed toes and hobbled over to the mirror for a better look. Glorious. So warm and stretchy. So tight and snug. She ran her hands over her curves, reveling in the long, delicious squeak. There wasn’t a single wrinkle or crinkle as she moved. This new lube not only helped the latex slide into place, it seemed to keep it in place, clinging to her like a second skin. It was magnificent. She was a work of art. It was almost a shame no one would see her as the rubber diva she had made herself into.

Sweat beaded on her lip and she huffed a breath out of her nose. Over the course of the last few minutes, the way the latex had settled against her clit as she paced and hobbled was a bit more stimulating than she’d intended. Every little move tugged and pulled at her. She reached down to give the crotch of her suit a tug to give herself the slightest bit of an adjustment. She grew rigid and took a sharp breath through her nose as a startling tweak of sensation seized her. Rather than sliding slickly away from her tender nub, the latex yanked at it.

“Mmmh?” she mumbled, gazing down at her latex coated legs.

She fumbled with the strap of the gag. Probably best to take it off to make it easier to investigate what was going on. No amount of tugging or pulling could dislodge the buckle, however. Indeed, it took a bit of tugging to even pull her fingers free of the straps.

“Mmmph!?” she muttered, touching her fingers together and finding them strangely tacky.

A troubling thought drifted through her mind. She turned to the bottle of lube. A touch of her finger to the label stuck the digit fast. When she pulled it away, the label peeled along with it, revealing another label beneath.

Perma-glue. Extra strength Formula. Guaranteed permanent.

“Mmmmmm!” she shrieked through her nose.

She grabbed handfuls of the latex suit and tugged, but it held firm, perfectly adhered to her skin and sending tingly little jolts of discomfort every time she pulled at it. Her mind was awash with frustration and anger as she creaked and squeaked her way forward, tottering on her tippy toes toward the door. Twice she nearly fell as her restrictive outfit and unsteady footwear combined with the increasingly frustrating tingle of her overstuffed vagina and ass, making the simple act of staying upright almost more than she could handle.

She paused as she reached the door. She'd just unlocked it, and was fully prepared to go seek help. But there was only one person nearby who might be able to help her. And as desperate as the situation was, did she really want Charlotte to see her like this? Helplessly sealed into her own latex outfit?

After a brief internal debate, she decided it was the lesser of two evils. She took a step back toward the center of the room to pull the door open. Her ballet boot came down on something slick. It slid from underneath her. Both feet flailed into the air and she flopped flat on her back, clunking her head on the floor.

Slightly dazed, she took a moment to get her bearings. It turned out, that was a moment too long. A soft chime rang out and she heard some relays click. Something tugged underneath her. She slid forward a bit. When she turned her head, she discovered she was laying on a thick plastic sheet. When she looked down, it was just in time to see the tips of her boots vanish between the rollers of the laminator.

She scrambled at the plastic and tried to pull away, but the glue on her hands had dried, leaving her with nothing but an almost frictionless latex on plastic squeak as she was dragged relentlessly into the machine. The heat of the rollers started to filter through the thick latex of her boots. Her toes pinched down to paper-thickness, sealed between two layers of plastic, two layers of glue, and two layers of rubber. The feeling of the pressure was intense, pushing her feet to the brink of discomfort, squeezing any stress and tightness from the muscles of her feet before letting the sag out the other side, hopelessly immobilized and completely flaccid.

The machine worked its way over her ankles, robbing her legs virtually any of their mobility. Her breathing was coming in fast, whimpering gasps as the panic and struggling started to give way to the raw sensation of being mashed flat. Her calves squished and spread, creaking at their latex coating before being heat-sealed between the plastic sheets. He huffed breathlessly, eyes shut tight as she felt her tights succumb to the rollers. Slowly she slid forward. She could feel the pinching of her thighs begin to mash against her dildo-packed sex. Now the warmth of the rollers teased at her rubber-wrapped clit. Then…

*MMMMMMMMMPH!*

Her back arched and her eyes rolled. A slit already stretched around her favorite toy, already trembling with stimulation, was suddenly fed to the rollers. Exquisite, agonizing ecstasy scrambled her thoughts. Nothing had ever been so intense. Nothing had ever been so hot and tight. The most sensitive, most intimate part of her mercilessly mashed flat, pinched between dildo, rubber, glue and roller.

Her body was still singing with the raw sensation, as her pert behind sunk into the machine and it nibbled its way up her midriff. Any thought of escape was gone, chased from her pleasure and pressure-drenched mind. All she knew was that the rollers had brought her to the brink of a spine-tingling climax, but locked her at the very precipice of release. She needed to finish with the toy and machine had started. One hand mashed at her breast as she slid the other down, seeking her slit to tease it to completion. Instead, it met the rollers, squishing inside to be sealed against her midriff, tantalizingly close to her pussy, but not close enough.

She flopped and flailed, body mashing further and tighter. The rollers teased at the bottom of her breasts, squeaking ever so lightly before tugging them inside. Her breath was shallow now, wheezing out of her as the sheets of pressure sealed against her shoulders, her neck…

Sammy released a final, whimpering squeak as the rollers mashed her head to two dimensions. Her vision sunk into the machine, fading to darkness, searing with warmth, and then slipping back out into the dim light of her playroom.

Her body settled to the floor. Having her head squished into a decal dulled her thoughts, but not nearly enough to spare her the smoldering titillation that refused to relent. She tried to move, but no amount of effort could summon more than a subtle quiver of the glossy plastic coating. All she could feel was the warm, smooth plastic, stretched tight over her flattened form, refusing to allow even a fraction of her depth to return. All she could do was endure the tingling aftermath of the rollers, stare with half-lidded eyes at the ceiling, and wait.

~~~

Charlotte paced back and forth in front of the door to her Mistress’s favorite room. She clutched her rubbery hands in front of her glossy chest and fretted. On one hand, the mistress had always made it clear that she wasn’t to be disturbed while she was inside. On the other hand, Charlotte was dedicated to being a proper made for the mistress, and leaving the room cluttered simply wouldn’t do. She swished her frilly tail and tugged at the hem of her rubber dress. She didn’t see her mistress leave, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t. And if she were to come back and see that Charlotte hadn’t cleaned up…

“Oooooh,” she said anxiously, bouncing on her heels. “I… I just have to take the chance.”

She swallowed hard and pushed the door. It clicked open. That was a good sign. The mistress usually locked the door when she was… indisposed. She trotted inside and quickly went to work. Gentle taps and swishes of a feather duster tidied up the many gadgets and toys. She tossed out an empty and strangely sticky bottle of lube and replaced it with a fresh one. A blush colored her pink cheeks as she hastily shut the door to the mistress’s wardrobe before she spied any more of her ‘special outfits.’ In no time at all, the pink rubber dragon maid had left the place pristine. The last order of business was to see to it that all of the machines had been properly powered down. The mistress often had visitors and more than a few, when investigating her equipment, ended up as a part of the mansion’s decor. Best to make sore that sort of thing only happened on purpose.

It was then that she noticed the long, narrow sheet of plastic spread on the floor behind the mistress’s favorite laminator. She tip-toed over to it and froze when she saw what was waiting for her on the ground. It was a laminated poster, transparent but for the exquisite woman depicted in a rather scandalous pose. She was gorgeous, coated head to toe in black latex, gagged and hooded such that any hint of her identity was reduced to shiny smoothness. Her hips and bust were very slightly distorted, widened in a way that defied natural proportions but served to make her seem even more shapely and divine. One hand was held tight over a breast. The other frozen in a clawing quest for her crotch. Hands shaking, Charlotte pinched the corners of the salacious pinup and held it up to the light. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the poster wasn’t perfectly flat. Here and there, at the breasts, and over the gag, there was a whisper of contour to the glossy reflection of the lights, hinting at the depth that a proper woman might have. The most curious bit of depth was at the groin, where a rounded bulge suggested there was something hidden just below the latex coating this vivacious beauty.

Charlotte carried the poster to the counter to lay it out for her mistress, but once it was spread there, she lingered, biting her lip and touching her fiercely blushing cheek.

~~~

Trapped within her plastic sheet prison, Sammy gazed up at her dragon made and watched as the rubber cutie grappled with the smoldering impulses. A blush of embarrassment further reddened the face mercifully hidden by its latex hood as he helplessly lay before her servant like some sort of pinup poster. She would have been furious, but for the fact that the awesome pressure of the plastic keeping her flattened body in its floppy, helpless form had kept her clit pinned between her rubber suit and the dildo within. She’d remained at the ragged, frustrating edge of a monumental orgasm.

If her eyes could have widened, they would have when she realized Charlotte’s expression had shifted to one of mischievous curiosity. She’d extended a pink finger to the poster. Sammy’s mind lit up with renewed sensation as the finger pressed down between her rubber-clad boobs and traced a long, squeaky line along her flattened figure. The vibration of the squeak strummed her like a guitar string, and her flattened heart raced as the light pressure quested lower… lower… lower…

The very instant before it would have grazed her clit and provided the desperately needed release, Charlotte withdrew her hand. The dragon’s expression was that of someone who had lost a battle with her conscience. She reached out and curled her fingers over the end of the poster, just below Sammy’s feet. Tight, alternating twists of her wrists rolled Sammy upon herself. She was treated to the muted, limp sensation of her boots wrapping back to meet her calves. Her shins pressed to the backs of her thighs. Her butt curled over her lap. Bit by bit she was reduced to a scroll, then tucked under the dragon’s arm to be spirited down the hall to the dragon’s quarters.

She was unfurled like a flag and carefully pinned to the wall over the dragon's bed. Charlotte gazed, hopelessly smitten, at the image she didn’t realize was her mistress, then pranced away, shutting the light as she went.

Sammy hung for a few hours, struggling against the tight plastic film. With each passing minute, it became harder to even manage a quiver or tremble. The glue she’d so lovingly applied to every bit of her skin was curing. Bonding her tighter. Fixing her shape. She could feel it.

Her nearly immobile eyes twitched as the light flicked on. A vaguely familiar form stood in the doorway, scanning the walls with her eyes. Sammy felt a flutter of anger, briefly edging past the simmering arousal that continued to broil between her legs. It was that vixen.

The red-suited fox spotted her and barely managed to stifle a bout of laughter. She checked to see that she’d not been followed or spotted, then pranced over to where Sammy had been hung and crossed her arms to admire her handiwork.

“Wow…” she murmured. “This turned out even better than I’d imagined! When I replaced that lube, I assumed I’d’ve just turned you into a permanent rubberdoll.”

She reached out and gave the postered mistress a flick, causing her to wobble in place on the wall.

“It would have been enough to just have you stuck in that rubbery outfit. But this?” She kissed her fingers. “This is perfection. Flat as a pancake, pinned up for your maid to ogle. Forever.”

She squeaked a finger down Sammy’s ribbon of a leg. Though it set her hyper-sensitive skin ablaze with sensation, Sammy wasn’t even able to flex the plastic film in response.

“If it had just been the suit, maybe you could have found some sort of solvent to escape. It’s not supposed to be possible, but you’re clever. Like this? Laminated and flattened?” Wendy gave her a flick between the legs, flaring the aching stimulation. “You’re a perma-poster. No two ways about it. Ah-ha-ha! Enjoy!”

The vixen took a camera from her bag and snapped a quick picture.

“A little something to remember you by. Have fun hanging around, Sammy!”

She bobbed to the door and shut the light, then shut the door behind her. The shutting door sent a breath of wind to flutter the now completely limp and helpless Sammy one last time.

~~~

Years later…

The window had been left open. Every few seconds a weak gust slapped her gently against the wall, tickling her dull mind with a fresh surge of sensation. Flat-Toy gazed at the pleasant, black-and-white decorations of the room that had been her home… always? Sometimes she had the vague notion that there was a time before she was hung on the wall, but that was absurd. What use would a poster of a rubber doll have if it wasn’t to be stared at or played with?

Another breeze curled her a bit. Flat-Toy let the lovely tingle wash through her foggy mind. In the distance, she heard a pair of voices. Anticipation sparked in her simple, rubberdoll mind. It was evening, and that meant her favorite part of the day. The part of the day when she was used for what she was meant to be used for.

“You did a lovely job, Charlotte. Excellent as always.”

“Oh, thank you Mistress Wendy!” Charlotte said brightly.

The door opened and the pair walked in. Wendy was the Mistress of the house, a vixen who always dressed so beautifully. Now and then there was some talk about her having taken over, but that must have been before Flat-Toy’s time, because how could anyone else have what it takes to run a wondrous mansion like she imagined must be hiding just beyond the door to Charlotte’s room.

“Remember, there will be guests tomorrow, so I’ll need the spare bedrooms to be prepared bright and early,” Wendy said.

Charlotte gave a salute with her feather duster.

“I’ll make you proud!”

Wendy paused and glanced at Flat-Toy. She felt almost giddy to have two women looking upon her. A proud moment to be displayed for the mistress of the house as well as the cute pink dragon that was Flat-Toy’s keeper.

“Good heavens, is that old thing still here?” Wendy scratched her head. “Gosh, I don’t even remember when it was installed. How long have you had that tawdry flat toy on your wall?”

“I… I can take it down if you wish, Mistress Wendy.”

A glimmer of fear sparked in Flat-Toy’s mind. No! She needed to be seen! Used! It was the whole reason she existed!

Wendy stroked her chin, then gave Charlotte a bop on the snout.

“No, Charlotte. If it makes you happy, it can stay. I’m sure we hung it for a reason…” She scratched her head. “Bah. It couldn’t possibly matter. Now get some sleep! I’ll see you in the morning.”

The vixen paced from the room. Charlotte lingered, hands clutched in front of her while the tap of the mistress’s footsteps receded in the distance. When she was satisfied she was alone, Charlotte put her duster away and turned to the Flat-Toy.

If she could move her gagged, flattened, and laminated mouth, Flat-Toy would have beamed a broad, excited smile as the rubber dragon approached and plucked her from the wall. The bright, expressive eyes of the dragon gazed lovingly at the poster. She hugged it tight, crinkling it lightly against her body, then hurried to the shiny covers of her bed and spread Flat-Toy out.

Charlotte shut her eyes and knelt on the bed, straddling the poster. She bit her lip to keep from moaning and lifted the frilly edge of her dress, revealing a glossy nub between her legs. She flopped forward, latex skirt crumpling against the plastic film of the poster, and mashed herself against Flat-Toy.

The room filled with lewd squeaks as Charlotte rubbed her null bulge against the poster. Flat-Toy wasn’t entirely flat, and Charlotte knew that there was one bit of her that was just a bit firmer and more defined. The bulge found its way to Flat-Toy’s flat-packed groin, searing her mind with fresh, raw stimulation. And then the fun began…

*SQUICKA* *SQUICKA* *SQUICKA* *SQUICKA*

She tingled and broiled with the rubbing. It was never enough to push her to climax. It was just a tease, and left her almost unable to think by the time Charlotte was through, but it didn’t matter. The soft whimpering huff of the pink dragon and the glorious friction was the highlight of Flat-Toy’s day.

When the dragon had had her fun, Charlotte hung her back on the wall, a bit crinkled but none the worse for wear. Another day of pleasing her keepers the way a proper Flat-Toy should.