Ashley burst in the door after rushing home from work and practically hurled her bag across the room. When she’d first been limbered up by the packing machine, she’d fully expected the effects to wear off. Unlike most people who find themselves being helplessly manipulated by a machine, for her, the thought of losing that flexibility was a source of disappointment rather than relief. Even as she was being carted home in the trunk of a coworker’s car, butt naked and sealed in a plastic drum, she was crossing her fingers that this flexibility would last.

It turned out, she had nothing to worry about. It had been weeks and if anything she’d gotten more flexible as time went on. And the gleeful horniness that came with that flexibility had grown more intense as well. These days, she didn’t even bother waiting until the sun went down to start indulging her new experiments with just how far her flexibility and stretchiness could be pushed. The door was scarcely shut behind her before was stripping out of the clothes she wore for the commute. Once she had shrugged out of or kicked off everything but her socks, she picked up her bag and marched into her bedroom.

Sitting in a place of honor on the dresser was the jar she’d spent a few hours stuffed inside when she first subjected herself to the packing machine’s whims. She hadn’t been back inside it, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Every few days she tried again to curl herself up tight enough to slip into the snug container again, if only to prove to herself she could. There was some question of what she would do if she ever succeeded, because it had taken a few squirts of vegetable oil and the full strength of her coworker to pop her out the last time, and he sure wasn’t going to bump into her in her apartment. But that thought seldom even entered her mind as her nude flesh squeaked against the smooth plastic in her periodic attempts.

Today, though, she had other plans. She unzipped her work bag and dumped out a veritable sample-pack of dildos, vibrators, and other toys that she’d grabbed on the way home. Most of them were nearly as thick as her arm–the usual toys just didn’t have the zing they used to, now that she could stretch so wonderfully. The new equipment littered her bed. She placed her hands on her hips and admired it. This was going to be a good weekend.

Before she got started, though, she had to take off her socks. She plopped down on the bed, biting her lip and squirming a bit as she felt one of the toys nestle itself between her cheeks without even really intending to sit on it. She grabbed her shin and gave her leg a tug. Her hip obligingly let the leg rotate without a whisper of effort, practically inverting her leg to easily pluck off the sock. She trembled a bit at a light popping sensation between her cheeks as she hoisted the other foot, but the feeling faded and she set her mind on more interesting things. She’d test out these things soon enough. For now, she’d queued up some videos she was dying to watch. They should set the mood nicely.

She trotted into her living room and mirrored her laptop screen to the TV. One of the many, many discoveries she’d made once she started indulging her kinkier side with regard to flexibility and contortion was the presence of a small but eager community of people who found extreme flexibility equally enticing. She queued up a few videos of ladies practically tying themselves in knots to pleasure their man or themselves, then flopped down the couch to watch.

For a few minutes, she just watched with rapt intensity, trying to etch the visuals into her mind and making a mental checklist of things to try. Then, in what was either a sly move by a performer who knew exactly what she was doing or a happy accident from Ashley’s point of view, the bendy lady’s foot ended up looming into the shot for a few moments. It was just long enough for the autofocus to get a nice, clear shot of it.

Ashley grinned. She jumped back in the video, then paused it with the foot on camera. Like so many things about her that had changed since the machine had done its job, her appreciation of feet had amplified immensely now that she could do what she was already in the process of doing at that moment. She flopped onto her belly and arched her back while kicking her legs up toward her head, curling tighter, she felt her toes threat through her hair and like the fingers of a lover, then continued to tighten the curl, Soon, she was able to slide her own feet down into her view, and with a little more twist and curl, she was able to flatten the soles of her feet onto her face. She reveled in the feeling for a few seconds, then started to kiss, nibble, and lick at her own feet. They were so sensitive, her eyelashes tickling her feet as she blinked, the warm breath teasing her arches. She popped her toes into her mouth one by one. She licked between each toe, sloppily french kissing her own feet. After a few minutes, she was breathless, effectively making out with her own extremities.

Finally it was too much for her. Her heart was racing, her slit was glistening. She was so horny. She let herself uncurl, then sat up on the couch and kicked her legs behind her head. It was so familiar a position, she didn’t even have to think about it. She just hooked her feet behind her head and, as though they had a mind of their own, her legs bent and forced her head lower. She folded down, face inches from her sex. A spicy, potent whiff of her own arousal was the last straw. She grabbed her own ass with her hands and practically fed herself her own pussy. She mashed her face eagerly into the hot, drizzling slit, teeth nibbling at her clit and tongue exploring her folds. Little intense waves of pleasure caused her body to twitch and tighten, squeezing at her tongue and fluttering her netherlips.

As she slurped and sampled herself, her fingers eased closer, slipping first one, then three, then a whole fist into her ass. Tongue and fist double penetrated her, noisily and sinfully stretching her most sensitive, most private places. Seconds dragged onto minutes. She pulled her face away from her sex, smoldering with arousal but not yet willing to give her the climax she so desperately wanted. She gasped for air and growled in frustration.

“Damn it,” she huffed. “I’m not gonna get off without help.”

She reached for the end table, where her phone was waiting for her. It was just a bit out of reach. She rocked a bit and sent it spinning with her fingertips.

“Whoa!” she yelped, her compact, curled up body rolling off the couch.

She landed on the back of her head, her pussy slapping against her face. She reluctantly accepted that if she was going to get someone to come over and help her finish what she’d started, she’d probably have to uncurl herself for a bit.

~~~

One phone call and twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She didn’t so much answer it as throw it open, grab him by the arm, and drag him into her apartment before slamming the door behind him.

“Whoa! Easy there! I…” He paused. “You’re naked.”

“Look, this was a booty call, I thought I made that clear,” she said, leading him to the couch.

“I mean… I figured that’s what you were aiming at, but it’s not like we’re dating. You somehow got yourself shoved in a jar and I kind of… borrowed you for a while. That’s not quite a relationship.”

She plopped down on the couch, her feet curled beneath her, and started working at his belt.

“I don’t want a relationship. I want someone to fuck me. I don’t know what it is, I’ve been having a hard time getting myself off lately. It’s like tickling myself. It doesn’t do any good. I need someone else to do the tickling.”

“Slow down, jeez,” he said. “Usually it’s not the guy who has to talk someone into doing some foreplay.

She grumbled and sat back.

“Fine. How about we lay the ground rules then. I’ve gotten really flexible. So don’t worry about going too rough.” She wriggled a bit. “And I know you’ve got a big dick, but these days it takes more than girth to get me off. I need depth. We’ll put that dick to good use, but I want you deep in me. With whatever you think you can get deepest.”

“Let’s not go crazy here. I know you are pretty limber and everything. Again, I drove you around in a jar. But what you’re talking about is some seriously intense–”

*SPLUP-PLUP*

“Ahhhn!” she moaned and looked back to find her feet, tucked neatly beneath her, had been steadily working their way between her butt cheeks and had finally popped inside.

She huffed and cupped her chest, wriggling her feet inside her, producing lewd, wet squelches. When she finally opened her eyes, he was staring in wonder at the display.

“Okay… maybe you can handle what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Damn right. Now let’s get started,” she said.

She awkwardly popped her feet from inside her ass and knelt in front of him. With a move so smooth one would think it was practiced, she slid her hands behind him and grabbed his ass while resting her elbows on his knees, and took his tip into her mouth. As she suckled and slurped at his cock, she flexed her arms and curved her back. Even while her head bobbed against him and she worked more and more of his length down her throat, she curved her back until she was able to plop her ass right on top of her own head, her legs pointing straight up. While she gulped and slurped at his shaft, she wiggled her butt. He seemed a bit bewildered by just how incredibly forward she was, so she took matters into her own feet and hooked her legs behind his head to yank him down to plant his nose between her cheeks. After forcing him to motorboat her ass for a few seconds, he took the hint.

He spread her cheeks with his fingers to tongue her ass a bit, then teased two fingers in to explore her.

“Whoa…” he murmured, stretching her anus with two fingers and a thumb. “You’re… really flexible.”

She smirked around his cock, pulled her ass away just a little bit, then rocked it forward. It easily slurped around his whole fist before he could pull it away. Experimentally, she started to slide it in and out, fisting her an inch or so deeper with each pumping motion. She rewarded him with each plunge with a gulp at his cock. Encouraging him to go deeper. Soon he was elbow-deep, pistoning in and out like a machine. He was so deep in her, she felt certain if he could negotiate the turn with his arm, he could probably start jacking himself off in her own throat. Then came the second fist. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she hummed in bliss around her mouthful as he worked a second arm elbow-deep into her. She managed to bend her knees and tuck her toes into her own vagina, foot-fucking herself while he went to town on her ass and she did her best to inhale his cock.

Finally, she hit her limit. She convulsed and shuddered, pleasure ripping through her as she felt his grasping hands somewhere deep inside her. As she sang out her ecstasy and was rewarded with a growling series of jets down her throat, he withdrew first one fist, then the other. The second one was holding a dildo.

“What the hell?” he said.

She coughed and disgorged his dick from her mouth.

“Heh… Guess I lost one in there…” she said dreamily, still pleasure drunk.

Even as she slid into the afterglow, she remained contorted on his lap, her toes idly wriggling in her own sex. Just as she started to wonder if he’d be able to go again before he left, she noticed the look in his eye. It was lustful, sure. But also calculating, like he was trying to do some math in his head about what he wanted to do next. And he must have liked where his mind was going, because she felt his limp dick start to bob and stiffen, nudging against her chin. Then, when his eyes shifted to the huge jar in the corner of the room, it seemed to click in his mind.

“Ready for another whoa!” she yelped.

His hands roughly reached around and grabbed hold of her boobs, using their grip to hold her in place against him. She teetered unsteadily, her feet resting on his shoulders as her head and ass were mashed against his midsection, she felt him heft her up and totter across the room. She bent her legs at the hips, tucking her knees against her back-folded body to keep from scraping the ceiling. He grunted, raising her up again and pivoting her just a bit in mid air so that she was facing the ceiling. Then he slammed her down like he was dunking a basketball. She felt the sudden, smooth pressure of the lip of the jar squeak up along her body and shins until it lodged  at her chin and ankles, the rest of her body packed into the same snug jar.

It took her a moment to mentally untangle her body and make sense of what shape she was in. Her head was tilted back, her face straight up. Her ass was mashed on top of it so firmly her butt cheeks were slightly obscuring her vision. She could feel the cool air on her glistening sex, and her feet stuck awkwardly out as well. Everything else was wadded and packed into the jar.

He tilted it sideways so that she was staring at her crotch. WIth wild grunt,  he rammed his length into her ass and started railing her. As she squirmed, gleefully helpless, her arousal started to build. Packed so tight into the jar, the fact she had been able to take both of his arms a minute before didn’t matter. His hard cock was nice and filling, her compacted body barely able to accept it. But the man was nothing if not eager for variety. After a few pumps, he switched to her pussy, then to her mouth, then back to her ass. He made a toy of her, or maybe a multi-tool. He even reached up and forced her feet sole to sole to fuck between them.

The kinkiness of her predicament, combined with the assault of sensations, launched her into a veritable cycle of orgasms, quivering and squeaking against the jar as she was used. It took him almost twenty minutes to cum again. By the time he did, she was weak and woozy from the number of times she came. He blew his load in her ass, leaving it snug inside her until he started to soften. Then he let it slither out, slapping across her face, before turning her to face up again.

He looked down at her, each of them huffing and exhausted. Then he leaned aside, reappearing with the lid of the jar. She couldn’t bring herself to object as he positioned it over her tangle of protruding parts and put some weight on it. Her body slid a little deeper, pressed a little tighter, and the lid clicked into place. She started to wriggle and squirm, her sweat-slick body slipping across the smooth container until she was able to see him emerge from the bathroom, cleaned up and fully dressed. He mopped a last bit of sweat from his head, then hefted the jarred toy with him and carried her out the door like a souvenir.

As she was tossed yet again into her trunk and cast in darkness, she focused on squirming until she felt her feet press against her cheeks. She started tonguing her toes and dreamed of what other plans he had for her.