The elven home shifted its design according to its owner’s whims. That was not to say that it metamorphosed on a whim. Reconstructing anything took effort. It took a tremendous amount of effort to reshape his home. No matter how attuned he was to the Old Woods, to magically shift and shape his lodgings took time, concentration, and a firm plan. He couldn’t simply wiggle his fingers and expect it to change. In the past, he had set up his residence in various ways; barbaric and rustic huts in the canopy; magnificent white towers; his most recent home would be an earthy village of green and gray all to himself. It had been a strenuous effort, but he had done so before leaving. He wanted his return to feel fresh. He wanted his home to be welcoming, inviting, and unsullied, and he had willingly spent many hours magically reshaping his forest.
Rossem Klyn knew that his current project would be the same. He was not attuned to her as he was the forest. She was not so simple-minded or weak as to be converted with a touch. This woman was not so eager as to submit with a glance of his black-and-gold eyes. She would take time and effort to reshape.
He was still thinking about how to best transform her, as well as what the end goal would be. She was something different from his usual acquisitions. There were others he had encountered as well; the proud warrior he already had, for one. She had been the only one to truly impress him in quite some time.
The elf was passing through the forest now and was only a few minutes away from his lair. The ninja he had recently captured was still sacked up in his magical rubber. She was, in her own way, quite beautiful like this.
He had defeated her very swiftly and her body still bore the ‘scars’ of the battle; the enchanted sap had totally coated her at the exact moment of her defeat. That meant that her arms were trapped behind her back, her legs coiled together and crossed around the knees, and her body totally and completely coated save a few minor slits for her nose. So tight and thin was his ensnaring black ichor that he could still see her clothing. It was so tight that it created a vague outline through her rubber-coated form. As he carried her, he would occasionally glance down. Her bare stomach slowly expanded and retracted as she took deep breaths. Her navel was visible. The ninja’s fishnet stockings were still adorably outlined.
The focus of her encasement was her face. That beautiful visage was a monument towards the woman’s aggression. Her eyes were closed, but Rossem knew that they had rolled back in breathless ecstasy. Her mouth was totally agape, and that meant that it was thoroughly and thickly coated in rubber. He took a moment to set her down and stick a finger in her gums, moving his gloved hand up and down her tongue and erogenous lips. She made a cooing sound before returning to her restive state. Rossem picked her back up, slinging her over his shoulder, and returned to his journey.
The elf took a meandering route back towards his home. His usual path was to jump along the treetops; a self-aggrandizing journey that reminded him of his incredible agility and elven body. This time, he cut across a small pond - a bit less strenuous since he was already carrying a slippery, shiny victim.
Walking on water wasn’t some magic trick. Simple elements of the forest were under his complete control; lilypads moved in order to make stepping-stones across the surface. He strode across them without breaking his rhythm. Halfway through, he took a moment to rearrange the lilies to the other side. During their slow crawl across the surface, he took a moment to look down.
Deep inside the clear water lay a dozen of his previous victims. They were alive and well; the elf abhorred violence. Unfortunately, they did not have such compunctions, and the ten or so bandits had entered his home with ill intentions. The elf responded in kind, slowly picking them off over the course of three days. Each capture had been glorious; he drank deeply on their fear, arousal, excitement, and struggle to escape. Each one of them had failed in turn, and had been rubberized and been given as sacrifices to his forest. Their black-coated forms slowly sank into the water until aquatic ‘grabgrass’ plants had taken them. Now the bandits were trapped in an endless cycle of milking, forced feeding, and mindless existence as mystical batteries for his forest. He could see one of them twitching as she experienced release, or something like it.
Rossem had totally forgotten about them. He didn’t even remember how long ago he’d defeated the lot.
The elf shrugged and continued on to his Elfhame lair.
“If you were fit to survive,” he said aloud, “You wouldn’t be so easily put down.”
His home today was a series of gray-white towers with green roofs. Long vines covered them. They had an unnatural aura about them. The vines were darker, thicker; they might as well have been the tentacles of some deep-sea beast. As he entered, he was greeted by the silent bow of a fully converted and coated rubber dryad, as well as the pleasured grunts of his feline prize. He nodded to both of them but quickly went up the tower. He was eager to get to work on his latest project.
Rossem placed his package on a short metal plinth. It brought the shorter woman up to his height. A magical field activated; so long as Fantom stood on this plate, she would be powerless and unable to escape his grip. If he wanted, he could leave her like this - a perfect trophy - for a few years, but he knew that neither one of them had the patience for such banal punishments.
The elf wiggled his fingers, and the latex coating retracted from Fantom’s face. She could move, breathe, and see. Her forehead was sweaty, her makeup had smudged and run. Her eyes were wide and mouth agape. She stretched her jaw and tongue, licking her lips and staring at him.
He grinned widely and put a finger on Fantom’s chin. He gently forced her head up. She resisted.
“Good day, ninja.”
“Good day,” responded the captive.
He stroked her cheek gently with one hand. “You don’t seem too happy.”
Fantom said nothing, staring up at the ceiling as he petted his prey.
“Perhaps you would prefer to join that… vixen friend of yours? I don’t recall her name. But I can retrieve her, if you wish. Give you a matching rubber skin. You two would make for a very nice package to sell at a special event.”
She was of strong will. Whether by magic or training, she was hiding her feelings fairly well. He could feel the blood rushing into her cheek, though she didn’t blush. He could sense a vague excitement at his words, but she didn’t show it. Her mind, for now, was stronger than her body. He would fix that.
Rossem chanted and his eyes grew dark. The latex coating slowly began to disappear, fading off of her body as he re-absorbed its power and substance. He stared at her outfit; attractive, but ripped and worn. It wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. He removed them carefully. Some would have to be discarded, others - especially some of her enchanted gear - could be reforged.
Fantom was able to give a grin. “Skipping right to undressing me? We’re not married. We haven’t even begun courting, elf. How scandalous.”
Rossem chuckled. “Oh, silly girl. To think, a human like you could court an elf like me?”
He ran his fingers over his purple qipao. It was a subtle, elegant thing, crafted of fibers both magical and mundane. All the while he pressed it against his lithe form, showing off his muscles, his masculine edges, and letting her take in his body. “You don’t really think that this could be yours, do you? Pssh. An elf dating a ninja woman is funny enough, but I could never enter a romance with a losing little rubbertoy like you.”
Fantom furrowed her brow. “I didn’t lose. Not yet.”
Rossem shrugged. “No, you’re right. You haven’t lost. But I won.” Rossem tapped her chin again. “Chin up, girl. Ta ta ta - I know what you want.”
She was now fully nude and relaxed. He came in closer, stroking her face with both his hands. “What you want is to feel me. You want my seed inside you; the sensual sensations of orgiastic release. Your body, even now, burns with intense lust. I can feel it.”
The elf leaned up against her. He felt Fantom’s generous breasts against his chest. He brought his shapely, sharp face against hers and rubbed his cheek just barely against her neck. He inhaled. Fantom’s heart fluttered. “I can smell it. You crave me. You’re just an animal, in a way. But fear not. I am a good and kind master to those that prove themselves worthy.”
Fantom exhaled loudly. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. “And if I’m too stubborn? If I don’t cooperate as your clay to remold?”
Rossem turned away from her. The words seemed to echo in the room, giving Fantom time to stew. He was rustled somewhere else in the room, taking something from a drawer and unlocking a box. When he returned, the elf could see that his project was warming up to him.
“If you fail… hm. I’m sure there are some plants that would love to explore your body - inside and out. Every nook and cranny to be used and abused and filled. Ah, but that would be completely bereft of your new master’s love. That would be a shame. And that’s not what you want, is it, dolly?”
“I think I’d prefer not,” she responded. Her smile had cracked now. It was a facade. “Though I am intrigued by the plants you speak of.” Fantom licked her lips again. “Do your grabgrass creations pick and choose between victims?”
Rossem tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?” he asked quizzically.
“I mean,” said Fantom with a sly smile, “if I were to escape, turn the tables, and feed you to one, would it do the same to you? Mummify you in its embrace and pleasure you until it’s all you know?”
The elf shook his head. “No. I’m quite tasty, as you’ll soon learn, but I’m afraid that they’re my creations. Just like me, they have delicate palates; they are quite choosy about what they grab. They prefer to feast on broken little things like your friends in the pond.”
“Ah,” said Fantom, “So when I escape, I won’t be able to use any of the forest against you.”
Rossem chuckled. “I’m afraid not.”
“So,” said the ninja, “I’ll have to tie you to the bed and use your cute ears as handlebars. Servicing your mistress without any fancy, magical bonds - just lots of rope, leather, and hard work. An old-fashioned punishment for an ageless elf.”
He grinned. It was so cute to see her sparring like this. The idea had merit. He was right - she was worthy of his attentions.
“No, no,” he said softly. “When I said ‘I’m afraid not,’ I also meant that there is no escape for you. None. You are mine. There is no negotiation.”
With that, he placed his hands on her ankles and rose. Where his hands moved, his rubber spread. Where his fingers touched, her nude skin disappeared; flesh coated in a thick layer of ebony ichor. It grew quickly, solidifying on contact with the air. The shiny black suit was profoundly thick. It covered her curves and obscured any faults in her body. It was a natural upgrade.
He knew that this was pleasing her, though she denied it. Her body twitched and her fingers moved as his massaging hands went higher. He labored around her womanhood, coating the entire region before actually touching her lips. Rossem wanted to make her want this. Magic was powerful, but he knew that there was nothing quite so powerful as someone’s own lust. When he could see her knees buckling, he leaned in close.
The elf delivered a quick peck to her bud. As she shivered, let his rubber go free. It coated her inside and out, moving past her wide hips, slender waist, and to her breasts. He pinched them gently, forcing the coating to support her chest. It was the least he could do. If he was going to permanently make her his loving rubber slave, he wasn’t going to skimp on the support!
Magically-attuned sap could change color on command. He borrowed the colors of her clothes for this new skin. Dark mauve for her chest and waist; black for her wrists and ‘boots’. Nobody would mistake Fantom’s enclosure for clothing, though. He brought her arms behind her back and sealed them in a boxtie.
As the rubber passed her neck and approached her face, it slowed. He took a few moments to make certain that the seal was complete. A single finger ran from her thigh to her breasts. He flicked at her left teat and elicited a rather high-pitched moan.
“Interesting,” said the elf. “Here I am torturing you, and you seem quite pleased.”
Fantom didn’t break. Curious. She seemed to be enjoying this, but keeping her senses. This was some serious willpower!
“You’re good, oh fey of the forest. But I’m Fantom. I enjoy your attentions, but I’m simply unbreakable.”
We’ll see about that, he thought. Rossem’s came in close again.
There was something truly remarkable about sharing one’s personal musk. Fantom’s body smelt of perfume, lust, and excitement. In turn, Fantom felt her captor’s heat and energy. It added to the mystique of this forest-dwelling villain.
He took her by the neck, clutching tight. Her airflow was barely constricted, but the feel of warm hands on her neck clearly excited her. He envisioned something in his mind and it became real. A pair of black rubber lenses covered her eyes. To the outside observer, it appeared that her eyes were now entirely black. It was a rather unusual and somewhat disturbing look. Rossem loved it.
“You don’t need sight or sound. You’ll see my vision for you soon enough.”
He matched her robbed vision with stolen sound. The rubber plugged up her ears. The focus wasn’t merely to deny her a sense - it was the physical act of enveloping one of her erogenous zones. Now, all she heard was his voice - that and a surreal soundscape of intimate activity. Licking, kissing, moaning; they filled her ear canals. It didn’t just sound like it, it felt like it. He saw her mouth quiver as the audio assault began.
Fantom truly looked like a rubber creature. Only her face - not including her eyes - remained free of his influence. It was time to finish the deed.
“Anything else to say, Fantom? This may be your last chance to use your mouth for a while.”
Her lip quivered. “Do your worst.”
Rossem sighed. “I’ll do my best.” He grasped her again by the neck, tightening his grip. Rubber finally flowed up past her neck, around her face, and over her hair. She was a clay doll to be shaped. A perfect rubber-coated creature. No sight, no sound, only the sensations that he deemed fit. His fingers touched her lips, parting them and coating them both. It looked as though she had worn a thick, glossy lipstick. Very, very pretty; very much his style.
As her lips parted, he noticed something within her mouth. He extended a slender finger and touched her gums. A strange sigil was glowing on the tip of her tongue!
“An arcane vortex,” he said. “Intriguing. What purpose does this have?”
“Nnngh-guuuh.”
“No, no, I was speaking to myself. Silly rubberslut, I don’t talk to objects. Anyway, let me see… human magic, but effective. Hmm… these symbols mean you’re siphoning something away.”
“Uh-huuuh.” Fantom was wiggling now. His rubbertoy seemed to be very afraid. This enchantment was clearly important.
“I think I understand.” Rossem gently pawed at her tongue with his thumb. “You’re siphoning off all your excess energy and storing it away. Plotting a escape, no doubt. Pretty smart, actually. Let yourself get good and horny, bottle it away, then then use it all at once. What would you do if you had the chance?”
Fantom said nothing.
“Oh wait, silly me - you already said. Handlebars, right? Sex toy? Basic stuff, very boring. Very human. Still, the idea has some merit. Let me just make a minor adjustment.”
He touched her tongue one final time and channeled energy into his toy. She groaned suddenly. It was louder, more passionate, and far more intense than any sound she had made thus far.
Rossem plunged his fingers into her mouth. “Suckle on your new master.” She did so, using her tongue and lips to gently lap at the elf’s fingers. The enchantment had been reversed. Rather than storing away power for later use, he was now forcing her to endure an assault on her mind and body. Her mind was assailed by arousal and excitement, balancing between a complete break and and chaste denial. Her body couldn’t deny what it felt. Her form had been coated - completely, now - in his own magical rubber, infused with diamond dust and squeezing her tighter than anything she’d ever felt. Fantom’s lips craved something within. It wasn’t a lack of willpower - it was simple human reflex.
“Worse than watching the cruelest deed is doing it by your own hand.”
He brushed aside her short black hair, removed her headband, and placed a smooth gem on her forehead. It molded into the rubber. The polished crystal seemed to surge with power.
“I said that I knew what you wanted, and I was right. What you want is to cum . You want release. You want to be used, abused, and filled. I hate to use such crass human language, but you want cock. But I don’t think you’re very picky. I think you just want stimulation. You want something greater than you’ve ever felt before. I’m giving you exactly that. Something to truly shake you out of your existence, to change you at your very core. This pure, beautiful gem will make you feel happy and full. What you feel now isn’t simple masturbatory praise. You’re touching your true self. So go on now; cum to your heart’s content...”
Fantom moaned. He retracted his fingers. The coated completed itself, moving into her mouth, filling over her teeth, leaving her smooth and ready for use if he so desired. Only her tattooed tongue remained free.
Rossem now tightened his grip on her throat. The ninja-come-doll grew short of breath and dizzy. The pressure on her neck spoke of dominion in both mind and body.
“...but remember who gave you this. Remember who owns you."
Fantom’s breasts were heaving as she gulped for air. After ten long seconds of denial, he loosened his grip. She gulped it down greedily - she wasn’t sure when she’d let her breathe again.
“How do you feel? Hah, don’t answer, toy. Dolls don’t answer. Anyway, I wish I could take credit for it, but you’re doing this to yourself.”
No! She tried to deny him, but her magic and body had been turned against her. She couldn’t engage in witty back-and-forth when every ounce of her form was infused with his magic - every pulse in her brain saturated with erotic need.
“Would you believe me if I told you that this was all mundane?”
She shook her head ‘no.’ Drool fell from her between her open lips. He wiped it away.
“Yes indeed. All mundane. You think I’ve cast a spell. I oblige… I admit, my fingers really do wonders on horny sluts who crave to be touched. Things like you that want to be used, loved, and dominated.”
“Hanannghh…” She moaned again, dropping her head down. He hadn’t done anything so mundane as fill her with toys. This was something more. Perhaps something psychological.
“I’m using the best kind of magic on you, Doll. I’m going to make you act as you always wanted to. I’m going to make you what I think you craved from the moment we met; you want to be a horny little chew-toy in my service. Ever since you saw that poor vixen in the marketplace, you wanted to be her. You wanted to be more than her; to be permanently in my grasp. How very shameless of you, fabled kunoichi, to get so wet thinking about this… toy."
He knew he had her. He took out another gem, perfectly smooth, and ran it across her body. It vibrated, humming with ensorcelled energy. He let the gem labor on her erogenous zones, teasing at her neck, her breasts, and between her legs. He left it above her groin, vibrating and humming and sending its cavitations through her body into her lips.
The elf knelt down and kissed her there. She yelped and her head went back. He saw her body go rigid. Through endless layers of rubber, her toes flexed.
“There is one catch. You’re not going to come. Not until I say so, of course. I want to reinforce that these hours of pleasure are not yours. They are mine. You live on my time. You feel what I say. You experience orgasm only when I say you do…”
He stood back up. The kiss would have put her over the edge were it not for his magic. He put his hand over her mouth and another over her nose.
For ten long seconds, her shining body squirmed. Thighs rubbed and her body wiggled, trying to grind against his qipao, to touch his elven form. Her breath grew short and brain grew hazy. The sensations penetrating her ears and the strange visions in her brain took greater precedence as her air-starved body cried out for more.
“... you breathe when I let you.”
She gasped, sucking in air once more. He did this again, and again. Her mind unwound. Time stretched out - what was time to an immortal elf and his preserved rubber slave? The buzzing of gems brought pleasure and desire. Every time he thought she might grow bored, the music of his fingers and magic wove her soul deeper into his. He brought her so close to the brink that she felt that she was going to break in half.
He used her - exactly as she wanted. As he wanted her to. He took her down from her plinth and escorted her to the bed. Her waiting mouth greedily took his manhood. He pressed the back of her head, gloves massaging a hooded neck to force her deeper, deeper, further onto his cock. Her tongue greedily lapped at his seed. Her mouth eagerly took his penetrative love. She labored attention on his shaft and head, kissing and lapping and licking. When he needed, he took her head in his hands and showed her what he wanted - what he needed. For that matter, he showed her what she needed.
When the elf had had his fill of her, she was still ravenous. She knelt down, moaning and drooling and wiggling in her rubber prison.
“You wish to swear fealty to me, do you?”
She nodded. Or at least, she was nodding. Rossem hoped that his rubberdoll hadn't totally lost her mind.
“You wish to be mine? To be my rubber slave , to have and to hold and to mold and to meld?”
She shook. “Nn-ghah!
“Very well. You have proven your loyalty and willingness to learn, human. But I know you want my touch. Right now, I’m afraid that I have to take my pet for a walk.”
He snapped his fingers, and one of his dryads began preparing Talyn.
“But… until I get back…”
He picked up his toy and put it on the bed. She was still wriggling, still groaning and writhing, still craving more. He forced her down. With one hand he pressed down on her neck against the cushion of the bed. With the other he gently touched at her womanhood, playing at her nub before going deeper with his fingers. He searched for her spot and found it.
At the exact same moment, he shut her mouth and planted a kiss on waiting, perfectly black lips.
Fantom came. But it didn’t stop. Her orgasm was all the many peaks she’d reached built into one. All those many hours - or was it days? - of denial and buildup shot through her body. Her form quivered and back arched. There were no words to describe it; even if her brain was at peak performance, it would not have mattered. The orgasm was bliss and heat in strange, exciting new ways. She felt whole.
The elf left his cumming rubberdoll on the bed. Her cries of pleasure were loud and long. He blew her a kiss and left to take his pet for a walk.