Good Girl

a John Doe story


Jill's eyelids fluttered as a sliver of sunlight made its way over her face.  She yawned and stretched, which for her meant twisting her neck and arching her back.  After a minute, she blinked a few times, shook herself out of her slumber, and took stock of her situation.  She was at the foot of the bed, which wasn't unusual; sometimes they left her on the floor, sometimes she woke up finding herself used as a pillow...anyway, she was able to crane her neck to see the clock, which read 9:27.  They let me sleep in, she thought to herself.  I wonder what they have in mind for me today.

"They" were Rob and Monica, the couple that she roomed with, or at least that's how everyone else saw the arrangement.  Monica was a nurse and Rob an administrator at the Sunshine Home for the Disabled, where she had lived as a child, after her birth mother took about 10 minutes (or so she heard) to make the decision to give her up upon seeing her "defect".  Quadrimembral Amelia, it was called...she remembered hearing the technical term a lot when they'd show potential donors around and point her out as one of the more extreme cases there that needed their monetary support.  Basically, it was a fancy way of saying that she had nothing of note beyond her narrow shoulders and hips, just a head attached to a compact capsule-shaped torso.  She made do with what she had, learning as a child to move around the floor on her own power, then eventually how to use her mouth to manipulate her environment.  For many years, she was a familiar figure at the home, zipping around happily in her motorized chair and socializing with the staff and the other residents.  Over the years she grew into a very attractive young lady, her torso developing alluring womanly curves, including a generous-sized pair of breasts that eventually required her to be strapped tightly into her chair every day to prevent her from toppling forward.

Jill recalled the fuss everyone made when she turned 21, when Rob made the announcement that he and his wife would be taking her in to save her from the horror of being sent to rot away in a nursing home.  Everyone saw it as the ultimate philanthropic gesture, but the true nature about their arrangement was known only to the three of them.  Few would suspect that the whole thing was Jill's idea; that what Mother Nature had deprived her of in limbs she made up for with an insatiable libido, and that Monica, her attending nurse in the home, had spent years taking care of her "intimate needs" that she was unable to.  (Jill could vividly remember the embarrassment of Monica catching her trying to rub her crotch on the bedpost that one night, only to graciously offer her hands and mouth as a substitute.)  Both women enjoyed the arrangement equally, and Jill never objected when Monica got her husband in on it as well.  One thing led to another, and here she was.  She truly felt loved by the two of them, but their sexual tastes clearly ran to the extreme, and Jill found herself the subject of some kinky game almost every day.  Not that she minded much; since living here, she had discovered she was approximately as sick and twisted as they were.

Today was Sunday.  It was the one day Rob and Monica were both off from work, so they usually picked this day to play a "special" game with Jill that lasted most or all of the day.  Last week had been "baby day", where they put Jill in a stroller, fit her with a special gag that had a pacifier handle sticking out of it, and paraded her around in public all day.  As if the confused looks on the faces of the passers-by weren't embarrassing enough, they also made her wear and use diapers all day, and changed her right out in the open on a park bench.  Two weeks before that was a particularly cruel game:   While keeping Jill lightly sedated, Rob fitted her with opaque contact lenses and filled her ear canals with a special type of rubber cement, and left her to wake up thinking she'd gone blind and deaf.  They let Jill carry on for hours, thrashing, crying and screaming incomprehensibly, before they let her know what was going on (of course they made a video of her humiliating breakdown to show her afterwards).  Apparently they felt kind of bad about that one, because the week after that was "princess day", where Jill woke up wearing a gaudy fake tiara and got to boss the other two around for the day.  They had to wait on her hand and foot and do whatever she wanted, both to her and to each other.  Jill had figured out that the deaf-blind thing had been Monica's idea, so she took great pleasure in ordering Rob to tie her down and take her anally (something Monica wasn't fond of at all) while Jill watched.  

Jill lay there, nervously wondering what today's game was.  Her reminiscing about past weekends had made her excited, and she passed her time looking at the mirror above the bed and admiring her own body.  She squirmed in place, watching her tits sway back and forth, and flexed the the muscles in her legless hips, causing a barely perceptible ripple in the flat circles of flesh exposed by the leg-holes of her panties.

Jill was shaken out of her reverie by a man's voice.  "Hey, you finally woke up!"  Rob said, striding into the room.  "I thought you were gonna sleep till noon, you lazy little lump".  Rob was fresh from a workout, standing there in a t-shirt and shorts, his hair slicked back with sweat.   He looked remarkably good for a man in his early forties.

"Good morning," Jill replied as she flipped her long blond hair back and turned her head towards him.  She tried to present her sexiest look, arching her back and biting her lip in hopes that he'd pick her up in those powerful arms and take her right there.  Instead, he stood there smiling and called his wife in.  "Hey hon, she's up!"

Monica walked in casually dressed in panties and a nightshirt, standing by the bed and beaming at her limbless pet.  She idly rubbed her long shapely legs together in front of Jill; she seemed to get a kick out of flaunting the four lovely limbs she had that Jill lacked.  Jill stared at Monica's legs with a combination of envy and lust, wanting nothing more than to squirm over and rub her face against the soft flesh.  She started trying to roll over, but Monica sat down next to her instead, easily thwarting her attempts at locomotion by pushing Jill's shoulder back down on the bed.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, smiling as she sat on the bed and stroked Jill's hair.  About ten years her senior, Monica could easily pass for either Jill's mother or her sister, depending on her look.  With her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing only some light makeup, it appeared today she was aiming for the former.  "I thought we could go out for breakfast this morning".

Maybe just an ordinary day, Jill thought to herself, almost disappointed.  "Sure!" she replied, kissing Monica's hand and squeezing it between her head and shoulder.  Jill began to glance around the room and noticed something missing.  "Hey, where's my chair?" she asked, quizzically.

"Well, that's the thing.  Rob and I have been talking," Monica said in an overly concerned voice, casually tracing circles on Jill's armless shoulders with her long nails, "and we decided you really need to spend more time working on becoming independent, so we put your chair away for today.  Before we go out we'd like you to put on your arms and legs and get yourself ready."  Jill's heart sank, and she squirmed anxiously as she watched Rob walk in not with her wheelchair, but rather carrying an awkward contraption of plastic and metal which he placed at the head of the bed.

"Listen, we pulled a lot of strings getting the money raised to have your prostheses made for you," Rob added, his voice suddenly stern.  "We expect you to take full advantage of this gift.  Now we've been nice enough to get your arms out for you, I'd like you to get them on while we get your legs ready.  We've already wasted too much of this day.  Be a good girl, now, won't you, Jill?"  While Rob was busy lecturing her, Monica slipped Jill into her special "stump sock", which was actually a sheer body stocking tailored to her special form.

"Um...okay, guys"  Jill said, dejected, as the other two left the room.  This was going to be a long day.  She immediately got to work getting herself positioned, rolling over on her stomach and hooking her chin into the mattress to slowly pull herself towards her "arms".  The device was like a thick vest made of beige plastic (in a shade just different enough from her skin tone to make it immediately obvious), with one hole in the top for her head, and two in the front for her generous-sized breasts to stick through.  Attached to each shoulder was a plastic arm lined with cables, hinged at the shoulder and elbow, and terminated with a shiny steel hook.  The elbows were already bent and the hooks pointed stiffly towards the ceiling.  Jill squirmed forward a few inches at a time, her nipples hardening as she felt the friction of her soft nylon outfit and the mattress beneath her.  As she neared the top of the bed, she rolled herself back over on her back, and then began to inch her way in backwards, which proved to be a much slower method. She grunted and groaned as she arched her back and wiggled her shoulders, and after what seemed like an eternity, managed to worm her way into the device.  She met some resistance when the tops of her breasts met the lower edge of the vest, but with a mighty effort she broke through, and her tits popped into their cutouts with a soft "fooomp" as her head finally emerged from the top hole.

Jill was already exhausted at this point and beginning to break a sweat.  She wiggled her buttocks to see if she could move back further, maybe get some traction against the headboard to get herself upright, but she wasn't going anywhere.  Already feeling defeated, she craned her neck and started working on the only thing she could reach, the top Velcro strap that tightened the two halves of the prosthesis together.   Straining with her neck, she managed to grab it in her teeth and pull it tight enough that her shoulders sat properly in the sockets.  She was in the process of flattening out the strap with her chin when she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"That's all you managed to do?" Monica said in an exasperated voice as she walked in.  "It's been over ten minutes."  Disgusted, she sat Jill upright on the bed and pulled the rest of the straps tight, and Jill let out a soft "oomph" as they squeezed her midsection like a corset.  

Jill looked over and saw her legs standing by the edge of the bed.  Basically they consisted of a rounded bucket shaped for her ass, with two doll-like plastic legs attached.  They actually resembled real legs reasonably well, but were a similar wannabe-flesh color as her arms, and had an obnoxious shine to them.  The bucket and legs, for the moment, were naked.

Monica backed up and encouraged Jill to come closer, patting the end of the bed like she was calling a dog.  Jill began swiveling her hips back and forth to make her way back down the bed, trying her best to look sexy for Monica, but hampered somewhat by the fifteen pounds of equipment strapped to her.  Meanwhile, Rob walked in holding a short black skirt.  "What about this one?" he asked.

"Ooh, that one's nice," Monica said.  "You like that one, don't you dear?"

"Um, sure," Jill replied, cringing a little as she watched Rob slip it down over the bucket and smooth it out.  She actually did love the way she looked in that skirt when she was in her natural state, but on the thick receptacle it clearly didn't fit right, and didn't even quite cover up the upper hinges of the legs or the "crotch" of the bucket.  She knew better than to object, though, or they might find something even more embarrassing to dress her in.

By now Jill had made it to the edge of the bed, which was a dead end for her.  The opening for the legs was a good foot above the level where she stood (sat?) on the bed.  Jill looked helplessly at Monica, who rolled her eyes.  "I suppose you want help getting in them, too?" she sneered.

"Yes please," Jill said, looking down sorrowfully and playing her part perfectly, lest they make things any harder for her than they already were.  "I'll try harder to do it all for myself next time."

"Well okay, just this once," Monica said, lifting Jill up by her artificial armpits and plopping her unceremoniously into the bucket.  Jill wiggled her hips to settle her butt into its cushioned interior.  She felt a little something pressing on the front of her crotch, which she figured might just be her panties bunching up.  It didn't feel altogether unpleasant so she didn't complain.  "Now," Monica said, tightening the belt that held her securely in the bucket, "let's get a top for you."  She rummaged through the drawer and came up with a tight white t-shirt with cap sleeves.  "Arms out, dear," she instructed, not asking Jill's opinion of the garment.

Jill began to undertake the first task of her arms for the day.  With awkward gyrations of her shoulders and torso, she unlocked each elbow, pointing her hooks back towards the floor.  She leaned forward as far as she could without falling, the arms dangling down, then locked them in place by nudging a button with her chin.  Monica was able to slip the shirt over the arms, stretch the collar over her head, and pull the shirt down over her torso as Jill lowered the arms again.  Jill looked down at herself.  The top was as ill-fitting as the skirt was, stretched out over the edges of her bulky arm shell, and the sleeves did nothing to hide the fake limbs that hung down by her sides.  Her tits pushed tightly against the fabric, held up somewhat by her prosthetic vest but clearly in need of more support than they were getting.

"So cute," Monica said, reaching towards her.  Jill arched her back and pushed out her chest in hopes that Monica would touch her swollen nipples, but instead she ran her hands slowly down Jill's plastic arms, finally reaching the hooks at the end, gently caressing one in each hand as though Jill could feel it.  "She almost looks like a normal person, doesn't she Rob?" she said coyly.  Jill glared at Monica, but held her tongue.

"Yeah, she's hot," Rob replied sarcastically. He lifted up Jill's skirt, flipping a switch that unlocked the walking mechanism, and then playfully slapped her on the backside of her bucket. "We have to leave in a few minutes.  Hurry up and finish getting ready...we left everything out for you".

Jill took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself...her first steps with the legs were always a little scary until she got her sense of balance about her.  Having no stumps to speak of, traditional artificial legs had always been useless to Jill.  Hers were a special "hip-swivel" type that were sometimes given to small children to get around, and in fact Jill had had a pair when she was four years old that she used to scoot around the home.  The ones she wore then had been stubby little ones with no knee joint and long, rocking-chair feet that minimized her chances of falling.  In contrast, the ones she wore now were full-height, with knees that stayed locked at all times except for sitting, and a pair of size-six feet which were adorned with black pumps (Rob had hinted that they'd "let her" try heels soon if she continued to make progress).  Jill trembled a little as she looked at the ground so far below her.  With a deep breath, she began swaying her hips back and forth, and the legs responded by swinging forward in tiny steps, making loud mechanical noises with each stride.  Click, clack, click, clack...the sounds reverberated down the hall as she made her way to the bathroom.
   
Leaning to one side and using a lot of body English, Jill was able to slowly pivot to the right to change direction and enter the bathroom, where she was greeted by the startling sight of her reflection in the mirror.  Jill stared for a moment, horrified but oddly turned on by the sight of herself.  Her prosthetics gave her unnaturally broad, bulky shoulders, and her tits were squashed alarmingly by her tight top, her nipples poking out prominently.  Looking back at her face, she quickly made the decision to work on her hair first, which was a rat's nest after her long night's sleep.  She inched closer to the counter, adjusted the height of her forearm with some awkward gyrations of her shoulder, then locked it in place and opened her hook with another shoulder gesture.  She leaned forward to position the hook over the brush before closing her steel fingers on it.  Jill was already exhausted from all the effort, and she hadn't even picked it up yet.  This is going to be a very long day, she thought to herself.

She raised the forearm up as far as it would go, then nudging a switch on her shoulder with her chin, she rotated the hook to turn the bristles of the brush towards her.  Even bent all the way, it left the brush nowhere near her head, so Jill had to make do with craning her neck and bringing her head to the brush.  She got several good strokes in, and her hair just starting to look normal, when the brush hit a particularly nasty tangle and popped out of the grasp of her hook, dangling from her hair completely out of reach.  Jill nearly broke into tears as she flung her head back and forth trying to release it, but the brush finally dislodged itself and clattered to the ground.

Her shoulders ached just from thinking about squeezing toothpaste, so she moved on to makeup.  After a couple of false starts, she managed to grab a tube of lipstick off the counter and raise it near her face.  She took the cap in her mouth and spat it back out, and had just put her lips against it when someone turned the light off behind her.  "Let's go, babe, we don't have all day," Rob said in a singsong voice.  She already heard the front door of the apartment being opened.

Shit, thought Jill.  She had no idea how much lipstick she'd actually gotten on, but she placed it back down and puckered a couple of times to spread it as best she could.  She knew she needed to hurry or they'd close the door behind them and make her open it, which was something she wasn't really looking forward to.  Click, clack.  Jill swayed back and forth with a fury as her artificial legs inched along.  She was covered in sweat as she turned the corner into the living room, where Monica was standing looking at her watch with one hand on the doorknob.  "This is really inconsiderate," she scolded.  "We have a lot of errands to run today."

"Sorry," apologized Jill as she teetered her way out the door, which Monica closed behind her.  Rob had already called the elevator, which he held open until the girls had stepped inside.  The elevator lurched as it started to move, and Jill fought to keep her balance.  Ding!  The elevator's descent was interrupted at the 18th floor as an older woman got on.  She glanced at Jill and did a double-take, then smiled politely before turning to face the door.  As the elevator started back down, out of the corner of her eye, Jill saw Rob take his keys out of his pocket and press what looked like a car remote.  With a soft buzz, the bump Jill had felt inside her bucket began to vibrate.  She gasped and bit her lip as the sensation began to build, letting out an inadvertent whimper which drew the attention of the old woman, who gave Jill a strange look.  You bastard, she thought glaring at Rob, but knew better than to say anything in front of a stranger.  The vibrator finally stopped, leaving Jill a few seconds from an orgasm, and the elevator doors opened at the lobby shortly after.  Frustrated, Jill followed her cohorts out towards the front door.

The restaurant was only a few blocks away, but it might as well have been a mile for Jill, who struggled to keep up with her friends despite their leisurely pace.  Along the way, she got to endure the stares and whispers of the passers-by.  "What is she?" a young boy asked his mother before being shushed.  One woman, unable to hide her reaction, simply gasped and covered her mouth as Jill passed.  Jill got to see her reflection as she walked by a row of store windows, and it only confirmed what the stares meant--she saw a freak on stilts, wobbling down the street with Frankenstein arms hanging stiffly at her sides.  And yet the more she looked, the more she found the sight of herself oddly sexy...the way her ass moved back and forth as she walked, her loose tits flopping around with each step, the shiny Barbie-doll legs and steel hooks glinting in the sun...

Another jolt from the vibrator jolted her back to reality. Wondering how she'd survive if Rob planned to keep it up all day, she hurried along to the corner and did her awkward twist to turn herself 90 degrees to face the door to the restaurant.  She managed to get over the threshold without falling, and stopped at the counter, where the waitress gathered two menus and then hesitated.  "Can she, um..." she started, then thought better of asking, and grabbed the third menu.

The place was busy, and the path between the tables was narrow.  Jill did the best she could, but her wide gait caused her hips to bump at least half the seats on the way down.  As if I didn't draw enough attention, she thought, catching the eyes of a dozen or so curious patrons.  They reached the table, where Monica had thankfully pulled a chair out for her.  Jill slowly pivoted around until to position herself in front of it, then looked expectantly at her companions.

"Honey, I hope you're not expecting us to help you with such simple tasks again," Monica lectured.  "How are you going to sit down when you're out alone?"  The very thought of it was ludicrous to Jill, but she nodded and tried to comply.  The switch that released the knees was on the side of her bucket, just within her reach, but since her arms had no lateral movement she had to contort her entire body to reach it.  Grunting and stretching, she managed to graze the switch with her left hook, and with a hydraulic hiss followed by a loud thunk, Jill slammed down into the seat.  Whatever diners hadn't noticed her yet all turned to have a look.

Jill fumbled with the menu, able to drag her hooks along the plastic pages to randomly flip them back and forth, but never quite managing to stop on the breakfast page.  She gave up when the waitress came, and ordered scrambled eggs and toast, something she hoped to be able to handle.  The three of them made small talk while Jill tried to find a way to unroll her napkin gracefully.  After a couple of midair clicks that missed it entirely, her right hook finally picked it up by the corner, which sent her silverware clattering down on the table upon raising the arm.  She managed to maneuver it over her lap and drop it there.

Rob smiled proudly at Jill's awkward accomplishment.  "Well, Monica might be a little tough on you," he said, "but I think you're doing a great job with your little "helpers" there," motioning towards the hardware that surrounded her body.  "I can tell you're excited to really get out there and prove yourself.  I think starting next week you should start heading out on job interviews."

Jill barely opened her mouth to respond before Monica interrupted. "Now there's no sense arguing about it, honey.  It's about time you got out of the house and did something with your life, besides sitting in that wheelchair and doing God-knows-what on the computer all day, poking around on the keyboard with that disgusting mouth stick of yours.  I mean, just look at you!  I'm sure any employer wouldn't hesitate to hire a confident, brave young woman like you.  You're doing such a great job, I bet you'll be able to handle getting around town all by yourself."  The waitress, overhearing the conversation, gave the trio a strange look as she delivered their food.

The absurdity of the idea led Jill to daydream about what it would be like for her trying to navigate the city on her own, to somehow get on and off the subway without managing to kill herself.  A mental image formed of her tripping on the way out of the subway car, having the door of the train close on her legs and carry them away, leaving her flopping around on the platform in her hooks and panties...a thought that somehow turned her on.  "That sounds exciting, I can't wait," she said with a fake smile, as she leaned down to awkwardly suck a bite of eggs off her fork that she had managed to grasp between her hook fingers.  Keeping the act going, she exclaimed:  "I don't know what real arms and legs are like, but these seem like they're almost the same!"  Rob and Monica glanced at each other, then Jill, beaming.

Jill managed to finish about half her food before the check came, and Rob was kind enough to help her back to a standing position (With another "just this once" warning, of course).  They waited for Jill as she toddled to the door, then started discussing their plans.  "We'll head across the street for groceries, and you can stop at that liquor store on the corner, pick up something for us tonight," Monica suggested, holding a fifty-dollar bill in front of Jill.  Jill was terrified to go alone, but more terrified to disobey.  She carefully bent her right elbow and opened her hook to accept the folded bill, then nervously made her way down the sidewalk.

The door to the liquor store was manual and closed.  She gave it a token push with her extended hooks, but knew she lacked any force to make it open, let alone walk through it while doing so.  She waited patiently until another customer walked out, who after doing a triple-take, held the door without Jill having to ask.  "Thank you," she said sheepishly as she waddled inside, the  man staring her up and down.  The door closed and she was alone in the store, save for the clerk, a young man leaning on the counter absent-mindedly reading a magazine.  Jill walked towards him.  It was hot inside the store, and the constant effort of jerking her hips was making Jill quite sweaty; unable to wipe it off, drops of perspiration dripped from her hair onto her blouse.  

On a normal day, sitting au natural in her wheelchair, Jill usually felt very comfortable around strangers, even reveling in her uniqueness and projecting a confident attitude.  But in her current state, she felt as awkward and unsteady as the plastic appliances strapped onto her.  "Um, excuse me, can you help me get something?"  She asked the man in a timid, almost apologetic voice.  He looked up, a brief smile flashing as he saw her pretty face, which quickly turned to an expression of confusion (and disgust?  Jill wondered) as he took in the rest of her.  She hung her head and quietly told him what she needed, following him over to the refrigerated case, where he fetched a six-pack of Rob's favorite beer at her request.  "Sorry for your trouble," Jill said.  "It's really nice of you to--gaahhh..." she let out an involuntary moan of surprise and pleasure as her vibrator unexpectedly sprang to life.  She whirled her head around to look for her missing companions, but they were nowhere in sight.  Probably hiding around the corner laughing somewhere, she thought.

"Are you...um...OK?"  the clerk asked, backing off a step, a quizzical look on his face.  Jill stood there quivering, trying to stifle the pleasure she was feeling, barely able to gain her composure enough to lift and lock her elbows.  "Mmmh...sorry, I'm fine, just...ohhh...hang it on here, please?"  The clerk hung the handle of the cardboard pack over the hook, and Jill struggled to shift her weight to keep from falling over.  She stuttered her way through asking for a bottle of wine off the shelf, and Jill waited for him to fetch it and bag it for her.  She tried to take slow, controlled breaths, but a massive orgasm was building, and her whole top was soaked in sweat now.  Barely able to concentrate on her movements, she managed to lift her other hook as he approached.  "Thanks, just take the fifty and keep the--mmmm, ahhhh"  The vibrator clicked up another notch, and Jill was unable to even finsh her sentence.  After grabbing the money and hanging the bag on her other hook, the clerk, probably wanting Jill to get as far away as possible, hustled over to the door and held it open for her.  Jill staggered towards the exit, each swing of her hips pressing the vibe harder against her clit as her involuntary cries mixed in with the loud mechanical sounds of her legs.  As she neared the door, a thunderous orgasm finally shook through her.  Her face beet red, tears of humiliation and relief welling under her eyes, she panted as she waddled out, as the clerk watched her with a horrified look.

Monica was standing with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as Jill met them at the corner a few minutes later.  Rob stared at his watch and shook his head.  Both played dumb about the little malfunction of the appliance in her pants.  The walk home was slow but uneventful, and the elevator thankfully empty on the way back up.

Jill sighed with relief as she made the last few heaves of her torso to cross the threshold back into the apartment.  Monica closed the door and headed down the hall.  "Jill, be a good girl and put the chain on, would you sweetie?" she called casually over her shoulder.

Jill turned and sized up the chain lock on the door.  It was high enough to be near impossible to reach with her hooks, so she decided to take a chance.  After glancing furtively behind her to make sure no one was looking, she grabbed the end of the chain in her mouth, and deftly slipped it into the track with her tongue and teeth before sliding it over with her chin.  Jill turned back towards the hallway, only to see Monica standing there with her hands on her hips, looking at her sternly.  Jill hung her head.

"After all we've been through today, you still insist on using that mouth of yours to slobber all over everything.  Disgusting.  Rob, do you have anything we can use to help remind our little girl not to do that anymore?"

"I think I have just the thing", said Rob, walking towards Jill concealing something behind his back.  With a quick flourish, he revealed a ball gag and popped into Jill's mouth, tightening the strap tightly behind her head.  "That should do it," he said, smirking as Jill moaned and gagged a little at the sudden intrusion of the red plastic ball.

"She'll learn eventually, I hope," Monica remarked, shaking her head as she turned back to Jill.  "Well, I'll give you one last chance to redeem yourself for today.  Come to the bedroom for one more lesson."  She and Rob walked down the hall, whispering to each other.  Breathing heavily against the gag, with bubbles of saliva starting to form around it, Jill waddled her sweaty, exhausted body down the hall.  Click-clack.

By the time she reached the bedroom, the couple was already half-naked, Rob's pants sitting at his ankles and Monica undoing her bra.  "Now, sweetie," Monica began, "it's time to practice being a more thoughtful and active lover.  For years now, it's all about 'take, take, take' with you, just laying there like a lump and waiting to be touched.  You don't want people to think you're selfish, do you?"

Jill was horny and desperate to be freed from her constraints, and felt the goal was near.  "Mmm-mmm," she replied, obediently shaking her head.

"Good.  Now, carefully, like you've learned, use your special hands to pleasure us for a change."  She gestured first to Rob's half-erect cock.  Jill painstakingly lifted and shifted her left shoulder to get her hook to just the right height, then locked it, then leaned forward and nudged her chin control to extend the arm out a few inches.  Another squeeze of her shoulder muscles opened the hook, and she managed to maneuver it around Rob's member.  Her muscles trembling with the effort, she carefully let the hook close enough to grip it snugly without hurting him.  Rob's cock reacted immediately, turning rock hard at the touch of Jill's metal fingers, and he led out a soft groan.  "That's it, honey.  Now jerk me off like a good girl."

Jill twisted her torso to make her hook slide back and forth along his shaft, slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed.  Her legs began to rock slightly, and Jill panicked as she nearly lost her balance.  Noticing this, Monica steadied her with a hand on her bucket, and flipped the switch that locked her leg mechanism in place.  "You're doing great, sweetie, look how excited he is.  Now, take your other hand and work on me," she said, leaning forward with her hands under her breasts, offering them to her.

Jill stopped rocking, and taking care to keep a proper grip on Rob, Jill repeated the slow, deliberate procedure with her right arm, until she finally got a grip of Monica's right nipple.  Monica gasped with pleasure as the rubber band squeezed the hooks together and crushed her nipple between them.  Every muscle in her upper torso tense, sweat pouring down her brow, Jill began to move back and forth again.  With each twist of her body alternately tugging on Rob's cock and Monica's nipple, she resembled some sort of cow-milking machine.  They both praised her efforts in between moans and groans of pleasure.  "Such a good girl," Monica sighed.

After a few minutes, just when Jill felt about to collapse, Rob and Monica slipped out of the grip of her hooks and let her close them.  Jill let out a moan of relief through her gag as she relaxed her shoulders.  "What a great job, honey, now come get your reward," Monica said as she and her husband walked across the room and laid on the bed.  "Walk over here and we'll let you out of those things for a while, and take good care of you."  She patted the bed expectantly.

Jill went to take a step, but nothing happened.  Then she remembered that her legs were still locked, and she was stuck.  "Ooo meeb oo umwab my ooebf!" she cried, unintelligibly, through her gag.  "I'b ftuck!"

"What, dear?" Monica said, casually, as she and Rob finished undressing each other.  Jill repeated herself, but Monica just smiled and shrugged.  "Any idea what she's saying, hon?"

"I think she said she just wants to watch," Rob said, slipping Monica's panties off.  "That's a shame, the things I was going to do with her..."

"Mmmph-mmm!!" Jill protested, shaking her head furiously, but she knew it was no use.  She was forced to watch their lovemaking as she stood there totally immobile, the vibrator that rested against her clit remaining silent and still.  In her frustration, she wiggled and squirmed inside her plastic prison, but the only outward result was that her hooks stretched open and clicked shut like an angry crab.  A single tear ran down Jill's face, mixing with the drool from the gag and the sweat that covered her, dripping onto her cleavage and making a soggy mess.

It was going to be a very, very long day.