To be “fulfilled,” to be “whole.” This could only come from within. Satisfaction could surely only come from reflection; often only when it was in the rear view, only with Lack could one define satisfaction in opposition to gratification. Gratification being the brief pleasure coming from the fulfillment of desire.

Except for Yui, where such philosophy was absolutely SQUEEZED out of her head, and it was better that way.

She couldn’t understand it, and at first she’d tried. But her existence was non-stop incendiary delight. She was the extrmephilic rubber slave-slut to Phantom, and it never got old. Her status was a Shepard’s Tone of what felt like constant escalation as the nastiest, subbiest little thing in Phantom’s menagerie.

Her desires - no, her needs - were to be treated as pleasure property. The Directrix was all to happy to oblige. The best **reflection** Yui had was the gorgeous sight of glossy rubber and shimmering synthetics. The sight, but also the smell, the feeling of it covering her body and face. The rear view needed was the occasional mirror to let her see what a gooooood little package she was. And the Lack she felt was the periods of chaste denial and edging, the feeling of growing desire welling in her womb, ballooning like her own prison - until Phantom forced her over the edge again and again. (Or was it even Phantom? Or was it her own needy nerves? How much of this was her leaning in to the gratifying feeling of being fucked and rubberized and servile for Mistress? This was the sort of contemplation that Yui barely had time for.)

Satisfaction came from within, and without; she suspected that Phantom had at some point processed and trained her into getting off to the frequent “big squeeze” of thick inflatable rubber. Inside, she felt toys and wands licking at her; outside she was jacketed and locked and sealed with a kiss.\

Yui’s jacket wasn’t *technically* heart-shaped, but it was close enough, and so it was referred to as such. It was extra exciting. It created the image of restraints so puffy that the spine-tingling self-hug became almost ridiculous. Yui thought about it, and she loved it, and she drooled, desiring to see herself in it.

“Goodness,” Phantom would say during evenings of humiliating and intimate pet-play time. “You make a better bitch than you did a catgirl…”

Yui walked on her hands and knees, loving every command, listening to Phantom’s every word.

“I like having you show off on your hands and knees. And I LOVE playing with your tits and belly. Especially in front of former friends. But…”

“But what, Mistress?”

“…but I can’t deny that I also like you as a slutty object to squeeze and suborn. Just like when I first caught you. I’ll put plans in place.”


After weeks of service and “training” and bouts of playtime, Yui’s reward was the inflatable “heart-shaped” jacket and a big mirror. She loved it. It was so filled that it stretched up around her shoulders, adding to the pressure around her sensitive neck. When she finally saw it, she felt her lip quiver.

A mixture of emotions ran over her at seeing herself so suited. A tiny bit of fear for how much control Phantom enjoyed. A dash of taboo delight. Mountains of erotic pleasure at seeing herself like… THIS.

Phantom didn't let her quiver any further. She firmly slipped an inflatable rubber pump gag into Yui’s waiting mouth, finishing it by rubber her fingers around her lips. Yui’s heart raced as she felt the slick bulb slide over her tongue, settling comfortably inside her jaw. Phantom squeezed the pump slowly, inflating it bit by bit, expanding the gag until it filled Yui’s mouth completely, silencing her into blissful submission.

The flavor was clean latex, intoxicating and perfect. Phantom ran fingers through her long red hair, teasing at her ears and interspersing it with sweet things Yui could barely hear.
She didn’t need to hear a thing. She was Satisfied.