Wyrmstress and Ser Dolly

by Miss_Praxis

Tags: #dom:female #dom:nb #f/f #f/nb #scifi #sub:female #bondage #clockwork_doll #clothing #consensual_kink #cuddles #doll_play #dollification #lamia #latex #Praxis_Memetics #soft #tech_control #transformation

Winry finally takes the leap and asks to find out what’s on the other side of the keyhole and the Wyrmstress A27A is more than happy to oblige the curious new Praxis Memetics Agent in her journey.

 “Ssssh, no more thinking. You know I can handle everything now. You did all of your thinking earlier when you filled out those forms for us,” The lamia said, smiling down gently at Winry
“Yes, but I uhm, I…” Winry stuttered, looking up at the snake woman silhouetted by the lighting panels bathing the room in cool blue tones. Ser pointed ears forming two curved points on either side of ser cyan green wavy hair, se wore a tight, latex leotard which encased ser upper body in gunmetal grey glory. All throughout the outfit, pieces of technology surfaced seamlessly from the latex like fish in a pond, slick and smooth and utterly alien.
The lamia paused, sinking smoothly down to Winry’s level “You know you can always safeword, dear, and I’ll be sure to take care of you. In fact, what color does letting me get you ready for your new role feel like?”
The girl’s frazzled expression broke. Her eyes fluttered as she gasped, “Green.” 
Good Girl.” The lamia slithered around the girl quietly on the white epoxy floor, ser hands flowing through a dazzling flourish in front of the doll’s eyes. Winry blinked, her thoughts seeming to flow into the gestures.
“Now I think it's time you let go of your worries.” The lamia sharply snapped ser fingers right in front of Winrys focused eyes.
Winry inhaled sharply, and exhaled slow and deeeeeeep. 
“Good girl,” the lamia smiled victoriously. “Let’s get started!”
She nodded blankly, her eyes drifting out of focus, unable to stare into the lamia’s eyes any longer. Jaw slackening slightly, feeling the shifting of smooth scales on her nude form, she felt tension drain from her limbs. She would be held so tightly, so securely, she…
“Thaaat’sss it dear. Why don’t you be a good doll and just let me sweep you off your feet.” The snake woman’s coils tightened and shifted, gently pulling Winry’s legs out from underneath her in one fluid motion.
Winry gasped softly, her breath hitching as she felt the lamia’s chlorinated latex bodysuit slide against her nudity, smooth coolness on soft warm flesh. Thick sinuous coils shifted and smooth skin yielded. Se spread Winry wide, a coil wrapping around her waist, another a bicep; scales gliding gently across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, her ankle, between her shoulder blades.
In a cage of unyielding yet gentle coils, Winry breathed and simply felt.
Utterly overwhelmed by the physicality of the encounter, her mind continued diligently trying to stitch together a rational chain of thought. Yet somehow every time it started to connect the lamia would be there to whisper some new lascivious idea into her ear, graze a hand across a breast, or squirm and snuggle just a bit more tightly against Winry. It all seemed perfectly timed to deconstruct any semblance of rationality she attempted to cling to.
Winry mewled, finding herself prey suspended in encircling coils, her body splayed out with the wyrmmaid looming over her with eyes so wide, so entrancing. For an instant, a primal instinct twinged within her, causing her heart to skip a beat, her stomach pulling into a tight knot. 
Winry knew now why a mouse froze when confronted by an adder. The lamia swayed, slowly, playing the snake ready to strike, and that twinge became a thrill racing the adrenaline up and down her spine. 
A smile cracked the lamias face, stretching slowly from ear to ear, impossibly so for a human. Ser scale tipped ears twitched slightly with their own anticipatory intensity. The snake’s scent hit Winry’s nose for the first time, as adrenaline pumped into her body, earthy and potent undertones enmasqued by a gentle, floral bouquet.
“I think a sweet morsel like you ought to do more than play the part of prey.” Se leaned back, disappearing from the young woman’s field of view. “Because your responses in your paperwork made it quite clear that you want to be dollified.” The lamia returned into Winry’s view, holding a delicate set of lace-adorned, cream-colored syn-silk panties, garter belt, stockings, bra, and slip. 
Each bore an accent, a rose motif with pink pastel petals.
“After all you do seem to be more of a doll. So why not fall into that role?”
Winry’s eyelids fluttered, but her gaze remained transfixed by the garments. They were clearly more expensive than anything she could have imagined owning in her entire life. 
Her body stiffened slightly with an intrusive fear: she would ruin them. Accidentally, by carelessness, by whatever means. She couldn’t possibly own such nice things. They weren’t for her. It was too much. 
As if her thoughts were laid out before the lamia to peruse at leisure, se leaned in and pulled Winry’s head close. Their breasts brushed together, soft, cool latex against warm flesh. ”No more worrying about the cost, dear. These are exquisitely well-made, but are not even remotely irreplaceable. It isn’t your place to consider such things anymore. You gave up those worries when you signed your contract.” 
The lamia pulled back and began to maneuver Winry into the undergarments. The syn-silk’s first touch sent electric arcs up Winry’s legs - more than her own natural reactions, they were— they were interfacing. She gasped loudly, eyes pleading, but bit her lip to smother any further mewling. 
That’s a good dolly.”
Winry squirmed helplessly. The lamia wasn’t rough, but her touch was firm and inexorable, and the unending and overwhelming sensation of being dressed by a latex clad lamia set her aflutter; she couldn’t hold still if she tried. Winry mind felt like a warm pudding, her thoughts helplessly melted by the elements of pleasure delightfully ensconcing her.
The stockings were soft and ever-so-slightly tight around her legs, as were the panties and bra. It was less like she was squeezed and more like each piece hugged and reshaped her beneath them, compressing her curves into something ever-closer to delicate perfection. The slip was slick, and flowed across her body, concealing the more provocative pieces from immediate view like wrapping paper on a gift.
“Perfection has nothing on the look of a doll’s face when she wakes for the first time,” The lamia chuckled, pausing in her onslaught to lock eyes with Winry. “But, to be honest dear, I am just getting started.” 
With a flourish, se produced a flowing white dress from what had seemingly been empty air moments before. Winry was so spacey she couldn’t tell where it had been pulled from. Pink ribbons hung resplendent on its form, lace etching words of rapturous feminine submission into its bodice, hem, and sleeves.
Winry, already on the verge of being completely overwhelmed, broke. Her moaning and needy body twitched helplessly in the lamia’s coils as the titillating onslaught continued.
“Aww,” the lamia cooed. “I am glad to see you’re beside yourself at the thought of being such a darling doll. However, there's one more thing I need to give you before I can finish getting you dressed.”
Winry gasped, eyes full of need and hands grasping faintly at nothing. “W-what?” 
“You need a finishing touch! Or did you forget?” Se held an oval piece of polished silver with a keyhole at its center aloft. ”You didn’t forget your keyhole, did you? Oh, darling girl.”
Intricate inscriptions and scrollwork scattered the light from its surface. As the lamia turned it in ser hands, se revealed the underside of the device; it was coated in a slick mixture of silicone and silicon. The smooth polymer looked as if vertebrae had been inscribed into it, with delicate circuitry protruding.
For the first time during the dance of submission the pair had waltzed together, Winry became more alert and less subdued, leaning closer to get a better look. Her mouth parted in a faint ‘O’ of awe.
“It’s… It’s… I just……” she murmured. “I never thought it would be so beautiful in person. I-I mean I’ve seen a few on videos, but… like… I— Can I… can I hold it, wyrmstress?” Winry looked up at the lamia, feeling small, tender, and very, very soft.
Se smiled softly, ser domme persona gently retracting like fangs, warmth entering ser demeanor at the evident reverence Winry displayed for the device.
“Of course dear. It‘s yours after all.” Se handed the keyhole carefully to Winry.
“Wow It's lighter than I thought!” Winry exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment.
“That does seem to be a common consensus. Personally, though, I think comfort coming first for such an intimate accessory is logical.”
Winry turned the device over in her hands, seeming to forget that she still sat nestled in the coils of a lamia. The lamia serself lounged gently on ser coils like a woman in a recliner. Se simply watched, a smile on ser face.
“Well, I guess whenever I saw dolls with them they looked so… Well… Weighty? Because of the metallic finish.”
“That is a reasonable assumption, though I think that the psychological weight that you’ve placed on it might prove greater than its literal weight.”
“Huh. I hadn’t considered that, wyrmstress.”
“Mmmm, do you know what else you may not have considered?” The lamia extended an open palm expectantly toward the keyhole.
Winry reluctantly parted with it. “What is that I haven’t thought of wyrmstress?”
The lamia hesitated as if an idea had just sparked into ser mind.
“Winry dear, I know you’ve only met me through my station so far, but I think I would like to know you a little more personally, as I have tired of formal titles of late.” Winry’s eyes grew wide,” You can call me A27A. It is my designation.”
“I… Thank you, Wy— A27A,” Winry said, catching herself.
A27A smiled softly at her stumble, still holding the keyhole in ser hand.
“Now Winry, I think it’s time.”
Winry couldn’t have smiled or blushed harder if her clothing had dematerialized in front of a packed theater audience. As the lamia turned her slowly around and exposed her back, she leaned forward to provide a better surface and tried to control the giddiness vibrating through her.
Time crawled by as the soft fabric shifted on her back. A27A’s hands drifted across her skin, stroking here, touching there, and... 
And then.
Something icy cold and an oval of pressed suddenly against - into - Winry’s back. 
Her eyes rolled up into her head. A bolt of white struck her, and her heart stopped. Everything plummeted away and her mind eroded into dust and the world ground to a halt. The feeling of time’s arduous crawl solidified into a blank, empty stillness.
Winry ceased.
And silence.
PMDD-WY52-Winry.ir loaded as the world slid sideways.
A bolt formed from the blank timeless expanse. The world began anew. The feeling continued gaining shape, a coiling spring drawing tighter and tighter with each surge of motion. She was impaled by the will of all that could ever be. Energy flowed into every part of her body, revivifying the empty shell, as the earth turned on that same, central axis. 
The key turned again. It was more than she could have ever known. 
The world snapped back into focus. The doll could see, feel, touch, hear, and smell. Her body moved! Smoothly even. The coils of the snake still supported the doll, albeit though the lamia had relaxed into a gentle, draped figure-eight of coiled support. 
She looked at her hands, observing the intricate fixtures and mechanisms that gave them life. The doll marveled at her genesis, struck by her mechanical perfection. 
She looked up at ser who had wound her, had given her new life. 
“First windings always seem to find a doll awestruck,” A27A remarked drily, watching the doll’s focused self-examination. The doll found the words drew her attention absolutely, with an intensity that she had not known before.
“Ah, but now we can play, Winry.

Winry the doll smiled.
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