Would You Like An Extension?

by ShuraShares (ao3)

Dr. Robin (Yes, the very same from “The Morphball Maiden." She really gets around!) made her way down the hall. A medically-trained, licensed, and accredited Doctor/Professional Dominatrix at the head of an invite-only facility catering to associated activities of kinky fun. Where explicitly consensual, customized-to-the-customer experiences of the highest quality can be had for the right price.

Recently one such invitation had been extended to none other than one Miss Raven of the Teen Titans. And it was none other than the very same that Dr. Lucy was on her way to see, as the rapier-spiked heels of her latex thigh-high boots clacked along the shiny, sterile, white-linoluem tile floors.

The facility, by deliberate design, had the air of a hospital, with the ‘personalized’ accommodations of an asylum. Every surface, the floors, the walls, the ceilings were sparkling white, save for the staff, which were all sparkling black in their latex Doctor and Nurse uniforms.

Dr. Lucy herself–unassuming Soccer Mom you’d see at the grocery store at home–BDSM-Kink Doctor wielding an enema bottle like it was an instrument of m(ass) destruction at work–was covered from head to toe in a jet-black, one-piece latex bodysuit. Of which the only opening was a curvy oval through which her ruby-red lips puffed and puckered through. No eye holes, yet she seemed to know exactly where she was going. And she was ‘dressed’ only in a clean, white, doctor’s lab coat. That distinguished her as a ‘Doctor’ in this highly-elaborate,
‘Real Roleplay’ setting with trained professionals and state-of-the-art equipment.

But for Raven herself, in her…current state of mind, the clacking heels approaching was the only new sensory input she had been able to distinguish for…hours? Days?

The Goth Empath with dark-lavender hair, who wears the ‘highest-leg’ latex leotard the world has ever seen that has both halves of her heavy, ashen ass on full, tight display at all times, turned out to be a very kinky person with a deep love for Bondage and BDSM. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?

Upon receiving her invite, Raven was overcome with a quiet, gentle joy. She even smiled! This was a chance to enjoy, an opportunity to INDULGE in one of the few things that she was truly passionate about, and she did not hesitate to take it.

In between then and now, she has since arrived at the facility, had her intake where they asked her a bunch of questions pertaining to health, limits, and personal fantasies, and been left to stew in one of said fantasies, after she paid the fee up front, of course.

This particular fantasy of hers started with a prison. But not in the conventional sense. For while she was standing in an empty, locked room that she was unable to leave by herself as part of the scenario, the actual prison in question was of the…barred variety. Singular.

Raven had been locked inside of a One-Bar Prison. It was bolted to the floor, with leg-cuffs attached. Although it wasn’t her bare, gray legs that they were wrapped and locked-shut around, but rather the ankles of her black, latex, thigh-high, heelless, en-pointe ballet boots that she had been standing in…long enough for the excruciating sensation of masochistic delight to make her forget how long she had been standing in them for.

Well. That wasn’t the only reason her cognition was floating aloft in the mental sea of subspace right now. There was a bit of a mental stack that had been ongoing, but we’ll get to that, piece by piece.

Like the bar of the One-Bar Prison that made it a prison. The ‘business end,’ which is, to say, ‘the one not immovably lodged in the floor’ was tipped with the most vicious-looking dildo. Its rubbery surface studded with countless instruments of scouring sensation. Thick bumps, flexible spikes, and uneven sections alternating between scrub-brushes and sand-paper-esque patches of material.

It was a foot in length, and eeeeeevery inch of it was currently and COMPLETELY inside of the engulfing divide of Raven’s palmable, pale ass. It was so WIDE in diameter that the gripping ring of her asshole gripping bore a striking resemblance to an a tiny, office-place rubber band stretching around a big, juicy apple..

But that the delights of the anal dildo didn’t with its torture-textured exterior. Oh no. For just like with everything else in life, it was what was on the inside that truly mattered. And in this case it was…rotors. Industrial strength.

Dr. Robin had graciously given Raven a demonstration before setting her in the One-Bar Prison, and, turned on without a ‘prisoner’ riding it, alllll 12 inches of the sex toy flopped around so violently from the force of the rotors lining its interior that beholding it was like watching a continuous whip-crack that never ended.

And all of THAT was inside of her right now. On. Vibrating. OH GOODNESS GRACIOUS was it vibrating! It was only a foot up her ass but Raven could feel it all the way up in her teeth. But the grand majority of the strength and force of the toy’s roiling rotations was directed at her prostate with pinpoint precision. Achieving a ‘milking’ effect as every swirling motion of the shaft pressed-unpressed-pressed-upressed-pressed-unpressed-pressed-unpressed-pressed-unpressed her cum button HARD through the anal wall over and over and over without break, or pause, or mercy.

That was certainly one of the heavier ‘weights’ on the mental stack numbing her thoughts.

As an aside, Raven was not nude upon the pole. No. She was indeed wearing a black latex leotard, but not her usual one. Though it was largely the same, this one had one key difference: the thong of the leotard was split down the middle. Creating a Lane of Exposure, framed between with two very thin, VERY TIGHT strips of latex biting into where her thighs met her pelvis, through which her asshole, perineum, and cock were accessible.

Although the meaning of the term ‘accessible’ might vary in the case of the latter, depending on your point of view, as her Ten Inches of Hardness had been reduced to about Four Inches of Twitching-Squish inside of bar-slotted, stainless steel. It was really only as ‘accessible’ as however much of her sex-flesh tightly mushrooming through the openings was exposed to open air, with the rest encased in unyielding, smooth metal.

That’s right, she had been placed in chastity, with a sextoy ceaselessly grinding against her prostate. Another heavy ‘weight’ on the stack. Especially with the urethral surprise this one possessed, in the form of a loooooong, hollow, tube that had since been inserted into her cumslit and fed aaaaaallll the way down past her bladder and into her prostate from the front. TRAPPING it between a Vibrating Rock and a Hard, Metal Place.

A mixture of cum, pre-cum, and piss commonly known as ‘dicktears’ was just constantly, slooooowly, drip-drop-oozing out of her chastity-squished tip in one, looooong, unbreaking strand that was pooling into a bucket-shaped container placed on the floor and positioned in front of her. More on that later. Keep it in the back of your mind. (It WILL be on the test.)

For now we travel further up, and also behind, as Raven’s arms had been guided into the long, latex sleeves of a monoglove armbinder. But not one of the ‘traditional’ style, because that just wasn’t enough by itself. It would have been too ‘weak sauce’ for her to just have her arms locked pointing straight down behind her with her shoulders wrenched all the way back. Instead, the monoglove she was wearing had her shoulders wrenched all the way back with her arms locked pointing straight UP behind her back. A Reverse-Prayer Armbinder, one of the single-most intense bondage positions the human body can achieve, was what her arms were currently and had been bound in, and it was made all the more intense by the WEAVE of belts cinched down to their tightest loops that were wrapped around her shoulders and torso. Pinning her sleeve-encased wrists so hard against the back of her neck that you couldn’t even slide a piece of paper between them. And as if that wasn’t enough, the tippy-top of the ‘bag’ of the armbinder where her fingers were pressure-trapped pointing straight up ended in a metal ring, to which a chain attached to the ceiling was connected and pulled so taut that even if her ballet-booted feet weren’t cuffed to the One-Bar Prison, Raven wouldn’t have been able to so much as lean forward, let alone even dream of laying down. This one was the equivalent of a cinderblock on the stack.

Moving around to her front, her stiff, gray nipples were poking through a pair of heart-shaped openings in the leotard. They both bore hoop piercings, and said piercings were also tethered by chains, so tightly that they were sagging downwards, to the One-Bar Prison below in a ‘V-shaped’ pattern. And you better believe the vibrative element of the dildo was transferring up along their lengths to nothing short of torture her stretched tits with sensation. This one was more of a brick on the pile.

Though the last couple elements of her bondage were probably the heaviest ‘objects’ that were contributing to the total ‘weight’ of the ‘stack.’ It was a posture collar/gag combo all rolled into the same piece of hard rubber. The collar-portion was boned, and extended from the base of her throat, to bear-hugging the curve of her jaw in its middle, and ending with its uppermost lip covering every inch of her face under the line of her nose. Her mouth, for all intents and purposes, was gone. Replaced by smooth, flush, featureless latex. Integrated directly into the reverse side of the panel was a mouth-guard, whose grooves were custom-moulded specifically with Raven’s teeth, and injected with biologically-safe glue that emulsified almost the very instant her drool started to mix with it after the initial bite-down. Resulting in an adhesive bond SO effective–her upper and lower jaw becoming SO impossibly fused together around the thick, heavy piece of rubber in her mouth that, without the special solution to dissolve the glue, she could very well spend the rest of her natural life in Mmphing Silence and Gagged Compliance.

And yet, despite the long, mmmmphing whine Raven made that accompanied every breath she puffed through her nostrils, the gag-portion was not the ‘weight’ of this item. It was the collar, for it RIGIDLY kept her staring straight forward from her One-Par Prison in the middle of the room. It kept her staring directly at…the wall she happened to be facing. The white wall. The other three walls of the room were…were…Raven didn’t remember. All she had seen–all she had known since she had been left alone to have her toys play with her besides the sensations that they wrought and wreaked upon her was this stark, white wall. It had no features–no windows, no decorations, no designs or patterns in the paint, not even a discernible spot or blemish or dirt mark for her eyes to focus on! It wasn’t even the wall that had the door, at least…she didn’t think it was? Didn’t remember it being? She wasn’t even sure if she was looking at the whole wall at once, or just a section of it. Was there even a door? How did she even get in this room? Oh god.

This was sensory deprivation with her eyes wide open. No matter how much Raven stretched or strained her neck against the boned posture collar, she couldn’t see ANYTHING other than the color of blank white. And what’s more is that the only sound she had heard, save for the approaching sound of heels clacking against the floor somewhere in the distance that her addled mind could not/could no longer understand the meaning of, was the machinations of the rotors in her ass and the clinking of her chains.

To put the combined Mental Stack into perspective, suppose that Raven was confident she could handle a ‘10’ in BDSM intensity. This was a HARD ‘10.5’ on the scale. It wasn’t killing her or anything, but it was challenging her like nothing else ever had. The tears in a constant state of welling up in the corners of her eyes, but not quite streaking down her partially-latex-covered cheeks, were purely a masochistic response from her body.

With all of that said, though, there was, of course, an end to this–-a ‘timer’ of sorts–a ‘clear’ condition. Involving the previously-mentioned container positioned just underneath her drooling, caged cock and quietly collecting everything that came out of it. This container had an electronically-monitored ‘fill line’ located just under its brim. Once the combination of opposing forces of sensation and sensory deprivation had wrung enough sex-liquid out of Raven’s body like it was a towel to reach this ‘fill line,’ the session would be over.
And that was what had summoned Dr. Robin from her office. After four, nonstop days of this intense, asked-for torture, which were not even interrupted by the nurses occasionally stopping by to inject a rubber syringe-ful of liquid food directly up her nostrils because Raven was so over-yet-also-understimulated out of her mind that she didn’t even notice, she had FINALLY reached that line. And the good Dr. Robin was now on her way to ask her a VERY important question.

Raven’s mind had SOMEHOW been able to register the clacking of her heels, yet she was completely unaware of her presence in the room until Dr. Robin had been gently tapping the side of her face and softly calling her name for two whole minutes.

“Mm…mmmm?” The Latex Goth noised inquisitively.

“Ah, Ms. Roth. Good to have you back with us. I see you’ve been thoroughly enjoying yourself…and our services” Dr. Robin said, the front of her boot colliding with the FULL container of ‘dicktears’ that Raven had no way of looking down to see thanks to the posture collar to emphasize her point.”

“Mmm…hmm. Mhmm.” Raven mmph’d in agreement, slowly coming back to reality from the oh-so hazy realm of Subspace. Evidently still partially there, though, as she was attempting to nod her head ‘yes’ and absolutely mystified as to why her head wouldn’t move, as her eyes focused on the Doctor’s.

“Ssssooooo…it is at this point in the process that I would like to ask: should we end the session now? Or…would you like an extension?”

A solid moment passed, and then Raven’s eyes widened with understanding, lighting up. “Mm-mm–mm. Mm-mm-mm. Mmm.”

Dr. Robin, QUITE LITERALLY having a degree in Gag-Talk, understood those three syllables repeated twice, followed by a singular as: “Ex-ten-sion. Ex-ten-sion. Please.”

A smile came to her ruby red lips, upon her otherwise completely blank, black, smooth, rubbery visage. “Very good. Ms. Roth.” Before the disappeared below Raven’s rather-restricted line of sight.

Every cell in her heavily-bound body tingled with excitement. What was she going to do?

The answer came quite quickly, as Dr. Robin rose back up, holding the container of cum in her latex-clad hands.

She didn’t say anything, she just continued to smile, as she brought the container and began to carefully pour the entirety of its contents directly onto Raven’s head of purple hair.

“Mmmm! Mmm! MMM! Mmmm!” Raven noised and snorted as she winced and blinked as the mixture completely enveloped every last strand of hair on her head and every last inch of skin on her face, even seeping down through the lip of the posture collar to rest trapped at the base of her neck.

Disgusting!

Hot…

“MMM! MMM! MMM!” Was the noise Raven made as Dr. Robin began to HARSHLY rub it allllll into hair in face with as much strength as she could muster into her gloved hand in HARD, massaging, kneading motions for several minutes straight. Even going so far as to jam her cum-coated latex pinkies up her madly-flaring nostrils. Until she was well past the point where Raven’s eyelids were so coated-over that she could no longer see even if she felt risking opening them.

It was at THAT point that Dr. Robin brought out a tight, latex hood. One devoid of all features. It didn’t even have breathing ports where the nose would be. She yanked it down over Raven’s cum-soaked head in one swift motion. It was so tight that it SNAPPED down around the base of her collared-neck like a rubber glove the moment she let go.

“Fmmmmmm…..MMMMMMM. Fmmmmm….MMMM!!!” Was the noise Raven made trying to breathe now. Her STILL-flaring nostrils sucking against latex sheet with every breath.

Dr. Robin had purposefully chosen this hood as it was breathable, but only just enough.

Raven would have to earn each and every lungful of air now, as Dr. Robin set the container back into its place under her still-draining cock.

The term ‘extension,’ however, had four different meanings, and this was only the first of them. And Dr. Robin planned on utilizing ALL of them to give Raven the experience she craved.

The container-dumping was an extension of ‘time.’ Time that Raven would now get to enjoy inhaling the scent of cum wrapped in latex for each and every moment. Or was it the scent of latex wrapped in cum? *thinking emoticon*

For the second meaning of the word, very simply, the cuffs containing her ballet-boot-wrapped ankles ‘extended’ outwards to the left and to the right on telescoping, metal bars of their own. Forcing Raven to widen her stance farther…and farther…and farther until her legs were as faaaaar apart as Dr. Robin was absolutely sure she could get them…within the limit of what Raven’s body was capable of achieving, of course.

For the third meaning of the word, Dr. Robin placed the latex tip of her latex forefingers against the stainless-steel tip of Raven’s chastity cage and PRESSED. ‘Extending’ the four inches of outward chastity into 4 inches of inverted chastity utilizing its hidden, convertible-design functions. Causing a “MMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!” to bubble out from underneath Raven’s rubber hood along with the cum trickling down from all sides.

For the fourth, final, and most intense meaning, the front of Dr. Robin’s latex boot collided with the base of the One-Bar Prison twice in quick succession. Causing two things to happen.

The first was that ‘more’ dildo appeared, in a very mechanically-complicated process that really showcased just how much funding this facility had to be able to assemble and install devices like this one. More of the same kind of material that the anal dildo was constructed out of started to slide up the shaft of the pole from beneath the floor. It came to a rest as it made contact with the material already inside of Raven’s asshole, and self-sealed into a seamless connection. Once that connection was made, the metal pole on the inside of the dildo material withdrew back into the floor, only for the internal space of the new section to be immediately replaced with MORE rotors. Essentially, the foot-long anal dildo had ‘extended’ into a two-foot long dildo.

The second thing that happened, after the first, of course, wasn’t quite so much of a mental leap. As the bar metal part of the pole telescoped upwards, driving the newly formed second foot of flopping anal hell alllllll the way up inside of Raven. Which caused her to expend more than a few precious, hard-fought lungfuls of air SCREAMMMH-ing “MMMMMMMMMM!!!” as her quivering, twitching, pulsing asshole swallowed every force-fed inch of torture texture until it was allllll hilted inside of her down to the new base.

That was…it…for the ‘extensions,’ But Dr. Robin had one last surprise for Raven. One that she would not see coming regardless of the presence or lack of cum, latex, or white-wall-based sensory deprivation placed in front of her eyes. It was something that only a TRULY masochistic soul could appreciate, and, in asking for an extension, Raven had proven beyond reasonable doubt to Dr. Robin that she was just such a person.

Upon her latex boot colliding with the One-Bar Prison one, final time, the hidden reservoir under the floor, upon whose tank was a label that read: “Pain In Liquid Form,” began to pump minimally-treated hot sauce through hollow interior of the bar, and then through the dildo to deliver a sloooooow, gradually belly-distending enema.

From the howling mewl of “MMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!” that Raven made, one might assume she…wasn’t quite a fan of the burning sensation building up inside of her. However, the flow of dicktears oozing out her now-negative chastity cage had increased to a thick, heady flow of white slime cascading down into the collecting container. She was CLEARLY having the time of her life!

The hot sauce was ‘minimally-treated’ in the sense that a very special something was added to it that would prevent it from eating away at the inner lining of her anal and stomach walls…and nothing else! The torturous, burning sensation was not hindered in any way, shape, or form. On full blast, in fact. And juuuuust when the burn was to fade, the volume of liquid inside of her would be allowed to sloooowly filter out of her, back down through the pole to be discreetly disposed of where such things properly belong…and then be sloooowly replaced with a nice, fresh enema solution of more of the same. Over and over and over for the entirety of the remainder of the session.

If the situation before was something Raven would consider, in her right mind, as a ‘10.5” this was definitely an “11.” She wasn’t quite saying much of anything at the moment, though. Besides, long, drawn-out bursts of “MMMMMMMMM!!!” through her glued-shut mouth and the hood wrapped around her cum-encased face in between desperate, dragging sniffs of air that she had to choose between using to actually breathe or to SCREAMMPH some more with.

A conundrum that Dr. Robin was only too happy to let Raven figured out for herself in the intermeaning time between now and…whenever the container filled up again, as she closed the door behind her to let her enjoy alllll the METRIC TONS she had just ever-so-lovingly placed upon her mental stack in private. She wasn’t in any danger, after all. Her heart-rate was being closely monitored by shifts of readout-minding staff in a room somewhere else in the facility . So…there was no reason to ever stop, or pause, or break, or entertain even the slightest, whispering-notion of mercy until the container under her oozing cock cage was completely filled up to the line once more. At which point Dr. Robin would return once more and ask “Would you like another Extension?”