A man's home is his castle. A tiny apartment, a lavish manor, or anything inbetween; whether it be a flat or a chateau, such an abode is sacred, a very personal place. One customizes and chooses the décor, they choose how it is used – and if they are lucky, they even choose the visitors and inhabitants.

Such was it on a chilly December  that a certain someone sat at his home – alone, of course, save for the occasional muffled moan of servile contention. A home – not just a house, but a home – secure in spirit, and with plenty of secured objects inside. He smiled as he crossed his legs and petted the mewling, groaning form of his latest pet; a girl barely able to call herself a 'woman,' tightly bound in such a way as to resemble the most adorable kitten. A mask over the lower half of her face gave her whiskers and a smile; an infuritating 'tail' in her rear; tightly bound arms and legs, and the piece de resistance, a thick and burdening collar complete with leash – and the occasioanal erotic shock function.

Truly, a perfect winter scene; snow fell on the ground just a few feet away, past the fireplace, the frosty glass windows; past the straitjacket pile, just past the trees; yes, a pale white snow covered the ground like a soft blanket. It also covered the motionless body of a decidedly infuriated Phantom, who stood stiff as a board, camouflaged as a snowman. She stared through her thermal optics at her target, just inside.
"Bind me, stuff me, and throw me away like a used prophylactic? You, dear, have made quite a mistake." Phantom licks her lips. Knowing that her henchmen, loyal, well-equipped, and trained for just this occasion (most of them were even ungagged!) – she felt confident in her assault. She snapped her fingers and the attack began. Henchmen burst through the door, and Phantom followed, shaking the snow from her skintight combat suit.

She burst through the window, sending the safety glass spattering on the floor. She stared at her former captor. "My apologies, dear; but I am not for sale." She grabbed him with ease, and within seconds, had him pinned. It was all too fast, to surprising for him to react – he had been half-asleep.

"Not to worry. I promise to take good care of your pets while I am away. I can assure you, Lucas and Ashley will come to no harm. Well, they will not be coming at all, but that is beside the point." Phantom cackled evilly as her henchmen entered the room. With one absolute sarcastic comment, she sprayed a viscous liquid on her wrist, and held it up to his face. "Does this smell like chloroform to you?"

---

He awoke with a start; a hawkish sweat on his brow, a slighty, tiny bruise on her chin, a thick collar around his neck – confused, he realized he stared at himself through a mirror.

As his five senses returned in earnest, he took stock of his new 'position' – after the attack – the violation of his sanctuary – he had been brought here, to what he presumed was the Lair of the Phantom. Well, one of them, at least; he could take a guess which judging by the thick cosmetics chair he had been strapped into. An incredibly tight dark leather straitjacket kept his arms busy; tightly bound against his stomach, he could practically feel the leather straps against his skin, compressing him, slowing his breathing, refusing to give him even the tiniest of slack; why, he appeared armless so tight were they. It was a combination, at that; a posture collar kept him all but immobile.

"Awake already? Such a pity," Phantom cooed. "I had been hoping that you would remain unconscious; it is so much more convenient. But dearie, never fear; Miss Phantom has prepared for such contingencies."

She took his chin in her hands between her finger and thumb and forced her to stare at her demeaningly. "Now, be a good little subject and we can do this the fun way." She did not waste time on her latest acquisition by explaining the nature of the 'fun' way; nor did she see fit to explain his situation to him in any detail. She merely stared at him with a truly, genuinely evil smile; a fiendish gaze that stared at him like a toy, or a trophy.

The first item was an old standby; a pair of thigh-high boots. In a bright pink color, they looked absolutely ludicrous; and also a bit painful, keeping the foot at an almost vertical angle. They were a rather inefficient piece of foot wear; as they were  certainly impractical for walking. They were, however,  carefully measured so as not to cause undue stress or to cut off circulation.

Phantom grinned, arching her back in a feline posture. She cooed with excitement, slowly working up the agonizingly restrictive boots up his thighs. Careful application of powder made them slide up painlessly; and careful application of latex straps made sure that they would not be removed without the help of Phantom.

With maniacal glee, her hands caressed his skintight leggings, a single finger gliding from his knee to his groin. Of course, her little dolly simply couldn't go around without underpants; such crude, lascivious behavior would not be tolerated. She saw to his decency with a chastity belt; a metal girdle with a thick plasteel attatchment would completely cover his manhood, encasing it in a sleek prison while sheathing his member. With an ironic smile, she worked a pair of pink panties up his legs, covering the chastity belt with an innocent piece of underwear. One could hardly tell he was aroused and simply begging to come.

With her latest acquisition almost complete, Phantom began the more esoteric steps of her plan. A pair of synthetic mannequin arms were stitched to the sides of his straitjacket; his tightly bound arms were replaced by realistic imposters. To any observer, he would simply seem relaxed with his arms at his sides; unable to escape, fight, or most importantly, touch himself.

Phantom nodded, and her henchmen aided her in dressing the captive. A frilly, gossamer white dress was the item of the day; gorgeously billowing sleeves, buttons, and a wide, flowing skirt gave her captive a uniquely ladylike appearance, complete with a slight artificial bust, and dozens of inescapable internal belts to keep the dress in place.

Her captive began to protest. "You impudent little whelp. I do all this for you, and you complain? You should be lucky I enjoyed our last encounter, lest I can promise you, your gift would be far, far worse. I could have permanently bound you up as a rubber pillow, had you taken to the stables; but I felt that you deserved something more… gentle." Phantom kissed his nose daintily, causing him to yelp in surprise. He stared at her confusedly. He opened his mouth as if to say something; perhaps to ask what her plans were, to again protest; to rudely interrupt the Phantom; but a henchwoman behind him reflexively implanted an inflatable gag, rendering him speechless. The gag mercilessly inflated, forcing his jaw into a wide-open position, filling his openings, and seeing to it that no matter how he chewed, tugged, or moaned, his silence would continue.

"What a perfect little doll – to my sensebilities, at least. A fantastic, interchangeable outfit; an adorable expression; and even a few delightful accessories. Once you start to get accustomed to your outfit, we might have to change it up… perhaps a sexy secretary… maybe a naughty nurse… ohoho, I had not even thought of playing with a maid! Oh, yes. I can promise you, you will be…  taken care of, I promise you. If I ever become particularly bored or you misbehave, dolly, I might have to send you back to the factory for inspection."

She took his chin in her hand, forcing him to stare at her. "And I can promise you, you do not want to be returned." She cackled; her evil laughter being the last thing he saw or heard as a skintight white hood  was stretched over his face, sealing it in an expression of disbelief and pained pleasure.

With a mischevious and sadistic grin, she sketched a pleasant, smiling face on the blank white mask with her finger, the selective ink in the mask forming over her lines, and creating a grinning, willing, and content doll. A quick smear of high-tensile adhesive, and a platinum blonde wig completed the ensemble.

Where a defiant man once stood, a doll, begging to be played with remained.