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<i>On the first day of Christmas, my true love made of me...

The story could basically be summarised as 'How many fetishes can I cram into one page?' Turns out that's a lot. Have a look at the tags, and read on at your peril!</i>

The potion was waiting for Jacob as he came through the door and brushed the snow off his coat, sat on a sideboard with a large sign above it that said, 'DRINK ME!'

This was one of the perils of living with a mage boyfriend; sometimes he liked to do things to Jacob. Not that Jacob complained, in fact he enjoyed the transformations that he had forced upon him. He was a tall, skinny man, with a large nose and floppy brown hair that refused to do what he wanted, and he always thought the bodies dreamed up by his boyfriend to play with were much more attractive than he was. He picked up the small crystal vial, and examined the glinting red liquid inside.

It tasted rich, sweet, but with undertones of freshness, like being next to a fireside as a snowstorm blows outside.

Putting the vial down, he noticed a note, in Alan's scratchy handwriting. <i>'An early Christmas present!'</i>

Jacob shivered as the prickly magic ran through him. The change would be coming soon, and he couldn't wait to see what he would be. Then he opened the door to the main hall, and for a moment forgot all about the magic re-working his body.

Apart from regularly being transformed to a sex toy, there were many benefits to living with Alan. One of them was the house, an ancient mansion, full of old oak beams and beautifully designed carvings that had been preserved for generations by his family. The main hall was the centre of the house, several stories high and lined with ancestral wall hangings - and now, filled with a gigantic tree that stretched from the floorboards to the rafters. It seemed to grow out of the boards, as if it had always been there, lit by the low beam of sun creeping through the windows. The evening light bathed the room in an auburn glow, and the gold and red leaves of the tree almost shone.

Jacob couldn't help himself, and he reached up into the lower branches of the tree. It was easy for him to pull himself up into the rays of light, the wood of the tree seeming to welcome him.

Almost absent-mindedly, he pulled off his clothes, which had began to itch. They dropped in a pile at the base of the trunk. Scratching at his arm, he found small quills breaking through the skin, and as he watched, feathers erupted out, growing to cover his skin. He'd been a furry before, but this was the first time he'd been a bird.

The plumage he was growing didn't seem very colourful, mostly and dull grey-brown. Though he didn't see it, his face feathers were more striking: a thick black band wrapped around his eyes, and a light cream around his chin. There, he could feel more changes brewing, deeper inside his head. His teeth seemed to be moving, pushing together, fusing into a single line. Then they shoved out of his

mouth, forcing his lips apart from within. He cried out, not in pain but in surprise as his lips pulled back further, revealing his teeth - now bright orange - poking out, his face settling down over his new beak.

Clacking it together, he waved his tongue around, trying to get the feel of his new features. "Hmm," He said, hearing how his voice was higher, more chirpy. "I guess he doesn't want a blowjob soon."

His feet were all that were left. Covered in scale-like yellow skin, his feet were splitting, one toe moving to the back, while sharp claws erupted from the front. His legs lengthened, and folded back on themselves, making it easier for him to grip the branches.

Now complete, he looked himself over, and laughed when he saw what he had become. "Oh, of course," he said, and reached out with feathered fingers to pluck a pear from the magical tree.

*

The two turtle were there when he woke, their naked feathered bodies pressed up against his. As he stirred, they lifted their identical heads, beaks turned up in permanent smiles.

Higher in the tree, the branch had formed a dense network, a tangle of twigs a leaves that was rather comfortable to lie on. Alan didn't question it, magic had created the tree, after all, and he didn't feel inclined to leave it last night, instead stretching out on the bower. He certainly hadn't expected to wake next to two lovelies in the morning, but it was the second day, after all.

The girls stretched, and laughed to each other, examining what they looked like by judging the others body. They were identical, covered in mostly soft grey feathers, with brown tints on their arms and backs, and orange feet. Though the feathers on the arms were longer and had more form than feathers elsewhere, they were far from wings: most of their bodies were human shaped, with articulate fingers. They had slim, lithe forms with small breasts, though they still jiggled when they laughed. Alan was glad to see they still had human vaginas; he had been worrying that they may have cloacas, even though his penis and balls had remained the same, aside from down on his ball sac.

Alan hadn't always been so appreciative of the female form. He'd thought he was exclusively gay, but months of living with Jacob had blurred the gender binary, and he'd grown to enjoy spending time as a woman. He still preferred men, but women were fun to be with, too. And he had a very open relationship; it had to be, when your boyfriend could turn all your friends into exact copies of himself, and then get you to identify which one was him by the taste of their semen.

One of these girls could be Jacob, the other one of the friends they liked to play with. He watched as they explored each others bodies, running hands up and down, gently ruffling their feather. They tried to kiss, but with stiff, fixed beaks, it proved difficult, and they broke off, laughing again. Alan moved in to show them how it was done.

They spent the day exploring their bodies together, finding out what worked and what didn't. Cunnilingus was out, but one dove found she could give him a blowjob, opening her beak wide to avoid scratching him sensitive areas, his penis disappearing into the back of her throat while she wrapped her tongue around it, and made an odd gargling sound as she worked it. The second tried the same trick, but couldn't quite manage it: the her gag reflex was triggered, and she reeled away from him, retching.

That was what he called them, after they refused to tell him their names: BJ and NoBJ. Normally, he found out who the transformed people were eventually, but not today; they only laughed when he asked. And they wouldn't tell him what exactly the rest of the days were going to contain - he knew the rhyme, but wouldn't that get a little boring?

"Will you be back tomorrow?" he asked, at the end of the day.

They just laughed, climbing down from the tree. He made to follow them, but when he reached the lower branches of the tree, he paused, then realised he was stuck. "Hey! Wait!"

The doves were by the door, about to leave the hall. "What?" said the one who had given the blowjob. "Aren't you coming?"

His feet were anchored to the branch. Every attempt to move them failed, like the signal got interrupted between his brain and his legs. "I-I can't."

"What, you can't jump down?"

"No! I- I just can't, okay?"

The dove who couldn't swallow his dick laughed. "That transformation must have given you some kind of mental block about coming down!"

The other dove cooed. "You let magic affect your mind?"

Alan paused. "Well, it's not like I have a choice, once I drank the potion."

"Ha! You have to choose to let magic affect your mind! And if you can't remember it..."

His mind raced. He couldn't remember ever hearing a rule of magic like that, but- wasn't that the point?

The two doves talked to each other as they left the room. "He let magic affect his mind? That's so sweet and trusting!"

"But really stupid."

"Oh yeah, so dumb."

"But still sweet!"

Their laughter was cut off by the door closing, and Alan was left alone in his tree.

*

The french hens were very french indeed. Someone had the entertaining idea to dress them up in fetishistic maids outfits, all black and white lace with skirts that were way too short to for any practical purposes. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, speaking in exaggerated accents, and bustling in and out of the room, laden with tidbits of food that they carried up the tree to feed to him.

The three girls were bigger and bustier than the doves the day before. They were still mostly human, with feather covering their bodies, and as they pressed up against him, Alan could feel the flesh beneath give invitingly.

Three girls were a lot to satisfy, Alan found quickly. His partridge transformation had given him a lot more stamina than he normally enjoyed, but even with that, he found there was always one girl left. They didn't seem to mind too much, though: each of them seemed dedicated to his pleasure, and that alone.

Lying back in the branches with one hen another dropping candied fruits into his beak, another lay down on top of him, her large breasts spilling over his chest. "So," he asked. "What's happening tomorrow? Are there going to be four girls doing this for me?"

The one lying on him laughed, and stroked the side of his face. "Oh, cherie... zis day is ze day zat is for you. From zen on? Oui, it will be us zat 'ave se fun..."

He was still screaming about that when they left.

*

The four calling birds were raucous and noisy, but beautiful. Their black feathers shimmered with iridescent reflections, every movement throwing rainbows up through the branches, flickering across Alan's face.

The colours of their wings distracted him. He had intended to demand answers about what was going on, but he was stunned by their bodies. Slim and athletic, they vaulted into the tree, trilling to each other, and before he could react two were on either side of him, grasping his wrists. Their orange beaks clacked in his ears as they spoke, each sentence cut up so that it echoed around his head, disorientating him further.

"We're you're guest for today-"

"-But we thought that-"

"-You might like to have-"

"-One of your presents-"

"-A little early. And then-"

"-It might make things easier for-"

"-You. At least-"

"-It won't take as much effort for-"

"-You!"

The other two bird were perched on branches in front of him, and brought their hands into view. Each of them held a gold circlet, glinting in the soft black feathers.

"What are they for- Hey!"

The blackbirds by his side had grabbed his arms, and held them out straight. He struggled against them, but they were much stronger than him; the last day spent eating the food from the french hens had left him feeling a little pudgy, and their toned muscles easily held him in place.

The golden bands seemed to be elastic and stretched wide over Alan's spread fingers, one on each arm. When the black birds let go, the snapped tight around his wrists, and a sharp heat burned into them. He snatched his hands back, glaring at the girls, and ran his fingers over the new accessories. The gold bands were flush against his skin, so tight that he couldn't squeeze a fingernail underneath, but they didn't hurt - they seemed to move with his flesh.

He looked up at the birds. "What are these for? And why did you need to- Aieee!"

The two closest to him swept him of his feet, and he tumbled off the branch, clawing at the air for support. The tree, however, was not about to let him go: twigs and small branches snatched at his feathers, twining around each other to bring him to a stop without a bang, bouncing up and down. He shook his head, trying to get a bearing on his situation.

The girls still held his legs in the air, and he kicked futility in their grasp. Two more golden bands appeared, and were lowered over his thrashing orange scaled feet.

The birds trailed their feathered fingers around his ankles, and released him. Touching the rings, he asked, "What was that for? Seriously. These are nice, but... What's this about?"

The four girls laughed to each other, their voices melodious and enticing. And then one gestured, a sweep of her arm pointing up. His right hand responded, throwing itself up, drawn by an irresistible force. He rocked up onto his knees, gasping in surprise, and the blackbird raised her hand higher, keeping his hand fully extended.

With his left hand, he grasped at his arm, trying to find a way of getting free, but there was nothing to fight against. His arms was held tight by the band, but it was as if it was fixed by nothing but the air. And then that arms was snatched away, hanging uselessly up in the air. He threw a questioning glance at the four girls giggling on the branches, seeing two of them now with arms out stretched. They raised them further, and he struggled to his knees trying to keep up with them.

But they didn't stop there. Desperately, he tried to keep his feet on some form of support, but he was lifted, still kicking, into the air.

His weight was too much for him to support like this for any length of time, he knew, but the same mysterious force supported him, keeping the wrenching pain of a dislocated arm away, but making sure he knew he was caught. His legs, were drawn magnetically forwards, his body inclined diagonally.

"Wh-what now?" he asked, his voice shaking a little.

In reply, the girls gathered around him, cooing and chirping. Their black, shining feathers threw more rainbows over his eyes as they stroked his sides, and one straddled his crotch. An orange beak locked with his, not exactly a kiss, and he felt himself grow hard, his dick pulsing between the girls' legs. A voice whispered in his ear, "Five."

He broke off the kiss. "Huh?"

"Five golden rings." The black bird sitting on him smiled. "And we've only given you four."

"Oh, that's okay-" He was cut off by the bird holding up the final ring. It was much smaller than the others, but still too big to fit on a finger, and it took Alan a second to work out where it was going. "Oh no. No!"

His cock was hard now, and she shifted back on him, letting it spring up against her lips. The ring slipped over his head with a pop, and slid easily down his shaft, only tightening when it reached the base of his dick. He gasped as blood filled his length even more, allowed in but only a small amount let out, making him almost painfully hard.

She ran a hand over the tip of his penis, and a pearl of pre-cum rose out. "Mmm... good enough."

She began to masturbate him, her hand damp with his juices. It didn't take long for him to reach the point of no return, and he felt his muscles tense, ready to spurt - and then the band tightened further, cutting off his orgasm. He shook and wailed as his pleasure was denied, and the bird giggled in turn.

The girl on top of him pulled his twitching cock into her vagina, and sank down onto it.

It was going to be a long day.

*

Alan was hiding at the top of the tree when the geese came in, trying to prise the ring off his penis. He had been hard all night after the blackbirds had used him throughout the day, and his throbbing dick desperately needed to cum. It was one thing not to have an orgasm for a few days, but another to be physically prevented from coming and forced to fuck was killing him. He didn't know how he was going to deal with six girls today.

The white birds gathered at the base of the tree, and he peered down at them. These girls were bigger than the previous women, wide rounded hips swaying beneath their mottled grey feathers, and pudgy bellies poking out below heavy breasts. Orange beaks clacked as they called up to him. "Alan! Aren't you coming to say hello?"

"No!" he yelled back. "My cock can't take it any more!"

They burst out laughing. Alan felt his face redden beneath the feathers, and his dock throbbed again. One called up, "We don't want your cock, we promise!"

"No," called another. "We'll just have some breakfast, and see where it goes from there."

"I could do you a boiled egg with dippers, no problem."

"Well..." Alan looked down. They didn't look that sex crazed, feathers covered most of their modesty anyway. "Alright."

He hopped from branch to branch until he was at the lower levels. A goose had climbed up to join him, and rested on the branch, her legs swinging and tail feathers on the other side. Another handed her a plate with a large egg balanced on it, and a slice of toast cut up into strips. She dipped the toast into the egg, and drew it out with shining yellow yolk dripping in strands back to the shell. The yolk fell as she moved it, splatting onto her beak before she managed to get in into her mouth, and she giggled as she licked it off her fingers. "Want some?"

Alan nodded.

When that egg was finished, there was more. Eggs scrambled, dusted lightly with pepper. Fried, with the rich yolk that oozed out and spread over lightly fried tomatoes. Poached with strips of lettuce. Every time he finished one, there was more.

Halfway through a slice of eggybread, he was full. Putting the fork down, he pushed the plate away. "Thanks- but I don't think I can eat any more."

"Oh, I'm sure you can fit in a few more bites."

He patted his stomach, feeling a little bloated. "No, honestly, I'm full-"

His hand moved without his command, the band on his wrist loading up another forkfull. He gasped, and turned his head away - right into the hands of another goose, who held his beak open with thumbs at the corner of his mouth. Crying out, he was unable to stop feeding himself, the goose forcing his mouth shut and open as more and more forkfulls of egg disappeared down his throat.

"Now, you have to eat all our eggs, like a good boy."

"Shall we show him the source?"

"Sure," replied the bird holding him tight against her soft flesh. "I'm pretty sure he's guessed by now."

Two geese crouched on the branch in front of him. One spread her legs, and the other steadied her, one hand below the other's vagina. With a series of grunts, the spread goose panted and clenched her vagina until something white began to emerge, and with a wail of orgasm, and egg fell out into the waiting hands, dripping with female fluids.

"Now, how about a taste straight from the shell?"

Helpless to resist, they held Alan's beak open, and cracked the egg just above. Slimy clear white dripped over his tongue, making him gag, and with a splat the yolk followed.

It was more knowledge of what it was than the taste that made Alan twist and try to push it out of his mouth, but he was not allowed. Strong hands closed his beak, and they tickled his neck, making him swallow little by little to his already overfull stomach. "You have to eat your eggs. They're chock full of goodness!"

"And vitamins."

"And... hormones."

He was released. Panicked, he looked down at his body, and saw that all that mass hadn't just gone to his now pudgy stomach - his chest was pushing out into breasts, nipples beginning to show beneath the feathers. His hips were wider, too, and the swell of his buttocks was becoming more feminine.

His golden shackles snapped together, forcing him to bend over with hands on ankles. Something touched his anus, above his still throbbing dick. "I wonder," said one goose, "Can we fit them in without taking the shell off?"

Alan moaned.

*

The Seventh Day

The floor had turned to water. Alan couldn't come down from the tree, but now he had nowhere to go, as well. his transformed body moved oddly, and he wasn't used to it yet. Big breasts hung from his chest, above a pudgy stomach and wide hips. The feminising eggs of the geese had worked their magic on him, though his cock hadn't been touched: it sprang up beneath his belly, still hard, and his balls still churning with need. He'd given up trying to get off, and was trying to ignore the feelings when the swans walked in.

The first thing he noticed was that these were men. Proper men, with hard dicks sticking up in the air. It was six days since he'd seen one except his own, having been with fifteen women in the past days, but the sight of one filled him with an unexpected lust.

The next thing he saw was that they were walking on the water.

He looked again, thinking that maybe the water was just an inch or so deep, but no: it was deep, and they were simply walking on it. The reason, he saw, was that their bodies, those slim pearly white bodies with long elegant necks, orange beaks and feet, were constructed from latex, not flesh and feathers: they weren't swans a swimming, they were the swim toys!

The first one jumped up into the tree, his air-filled body moving with a lightness that was at odds with his size. The others, each identical, followed, white plastic swarming through the air.

Alan was torn whether to back away or not. Not matter what he did he knew he was going to get fucked, but he was really beginning to want it. His lust was growing within him, and he wondered - would being fucked be enough to get him off, even with the cock ring in place?

He edged along his branch, towards the nearest pool toy. The swam smiled at him, latex creaking at the corner of his mouth, and then Alan embraced him, squeezing plastic against his new breasts, their cocks mashing together with the swan's deforming and bending around Alans'. The long neck bent down, and soft plastic lips engulfed his beak, the scent of latex filling his senses.

A second swan hugged him from behind. They both towered over him, their masculine, rubbery presence surrounding him. For a second, he couldn't feel the dick of the one behind him, but then it pressed up, underneath his tail feathers. With a sigh, he broke off his kiss and opened up, the slick plasticised penis slipping easily into his anus and filling him gently.

The other swans crowded around them, their hands touching him, ruffling his feathers as the penis inside him slowly and loving fucked him. It didn't take long until he came, and Alan felt liquid latex spurt up inside him, his own cock throbbing painfully and leaking nothing but pre-cum. The swan popped out of him, a stream of his cum spattering out and onto Alan's avian legs.

The swans let him go. He fell to his knees, gasping with the unfulfilled pleasure within him. With one hand he touched the dribble of cum running down his legs, and looked up at the swans. "Wow..." he said, his voice more feminine than before. "Are you all going to do that?"

His fingers felt funny. Looking at them, it seemed the cum was covering them in a thick rubbery layer. But it was more than that. Touching his leg, the feathers had gone, and as he pressed it, it gave. With his unaffected hand, he squeezed the tip of the changing hand. It gave, as if it was a balloon filled with air.

Around the partridge, the swans towered over him, each one smiling, and masturbating.

*

He was rubber now. His large breasts were perkier, and his belly looked taught with air rather than sagging as it had before. His dick had increased in size, though the ring at the base had not; it was almost comical, except for the fact that it was still cutting off the one moment of release Alan so desperately needed now.

The swans had coated him with cum before fucking him more. His body, first turned to a bird, then feminised by the eggs of the geese, was filled with air and the scent of chlorine as a pool toy. He could guess what was coming next, but had no idea how it would happen.

The cows, though, were already gathering at the base of the tree, helping each other climb up. The branches creaked under their weight - each one could only be described as overweight, large stomachs wobbling as they hauled themselves further towards him. Between their legs hung udders with long teats. A few drops of milk fell from their massive mammaries, indicative of what was to come.

These were the first of his 'gifts' that weren't quite identical. They all had the same body shape, pink noses, but their black and white patterns varied from cow to cow. The spots were not the normal amorphous blobs of natural cows, but strange spirals and designs that distracted him over the acres of flesh to their mounds and swinging nipples.

Alan still had the golden rings on his wrists. They weren't really necessary any more, his air filled body was too weak to resist, and besides, he longer to be touched so much that it was difficult to even try. They grabbed his arms, and chatted to each other. "Oooh, look at how she bends!"

His limbs were wrenched back on themselves, not hurting but displacing the air inside, making the rest of him - but mainly his breasts and dick - swell up. "Oooh, I wonder what would happen if I stuck an arm up inside me?"

"Well go ahead! It's not like she's going to complain!"

And it wasn't. His voice was gone, at the same time his throat had turned into a length of plastic that came to a stop after a foot. If he could have, though, he'd have complained more about being referred to as 'she' - although there was no way he could deny that he was a shemale now.

One cow grabbed his arm and shoved it underneath her udder. However, she couldn't quite get it into her vagina. "Hey, give me a hand here!"

Giggling, another cow helped. Her fingers ended in thick nails that were more like hooves, Alan noticed as she pushed the air out of his arm. Keeping it flaccid with her fingers tight around his shoulder, she forced the length of plastic decorated with imitation feathers between the fat folds of the first heifer. then released. He could feel his arm swell inside her, and wiggled it. She mooed in contentment, and said, "Ooooh, yeah, that's right. Can you do something about this, too?"

His plastic beak was wedged open, and a fat teat pushed in. Without being told, he began to suck on it. Thick, creamy milk flooded into his mouth, and he slurped it down, each gulp bring more down more. With his fingers, he twisted and clenched within the vagina of the cow, and that seemed to change her taste - it became richer and fuller as she came.

Another cow pulled him out. "Hey girls, who wants a turn with her now?"

Alan would have blushed if he was still made of meat. As he was tossed him to the next bovine beauty to suck on her dangling teats, he felt something slosh within him. The cows had seen it too, and as he was pushed onto another warm and already spurting teat, hands began to tug at his own nipples, coaxing a tiny drip of milk from his hollow interior. He would have groaned at the feeling, rolling his eyes back in his head as rubbery echoes rolled throughout his body.

"Oooh, I think she likes that!"

"Do you think she'd like her other teat milked, too?"

"Go on. See if she likes it."

A hand touched his cock, and his body jerked and bounced like a rubber ball. His thrusts only pushed his dick faster in and out of her grasp. He couldn't stop, needing it too badly, even though he knew his balloon cock couldn't cum.

"I don't think you're going to get much milk from that one..." said one cow.

"I don't care, it's fun enough watching her jerk like that!"

*

There was silence when he woke.

He didn't know how he'd slept, really. His rubbery eyes had no lids, and the light filtered through his translucent skin anyway. Regardless, he'd slipped into the darkness of sleep with confused, half formed dreams of need and prevention after the cows had stopped pumping him full of milk, and them stimulating it out again.

He stretched, trying to yawn, but he still had no voice. Squeaks of rubber on rubber were the only sound he could make. For a moment, he was content to lie in the boughs of the enormous pear tree, before the next nine tormentors arrived. And then he saw them.

One was mere inches above him, and he jumped away, the branches meshing beneath him to stop him falling from the tree. It was a stature, carved from wood, but jointed like a mannequin. It was made in the form of a female squirrel, her limbs long and lithe, her body well formed with slim athletic muscles. Her tail was one solid lump of wood, but the rest of her looked ready to spring into life.

Eight more of the sculptures were positioned on branches spread at equal distance from the main trunk. Each one was exactly the same. Each one was waiting.

Alan crept up closer to the first one he'd seen. his fingers were about to touch it when they spoke. "Will you sing for us, little bird?"

They all spoke in unison, like each carving was part of a whole. Voices came from all directions, and Alan flinched. They hadn't moved, still facing inwards, arms by their side. Obviously, he had to do something to move the scenario on, but what? He opened his beak, trying to show them his closed throat, and that there was no way he could sing.

With a scraping sound, all the mannequins lifted their right arms, one finger extended, pointing towards the centre of the tree. Slightly afraid, Alan made his way to the trunk, his latex claws squeaking on the wood, and examined closely. There was something he hadn't noticed before; a half broken branch stuck out at an angle before bending in the middle. Now that he looked at it more closely...

He grasped the branch, and twisted it. A loud burst of music filled the air, and in surprise he let go.

The music was odd. It seemed to come from deep inside every branch of the tree, the sound of plucked harp strings that made his grey and brown rubber skin vibrate. And now he saw that the dancers had moved, ever so slightly, with the music, drawing their outstretched arms up in the air. Grinning, he turned the handle again.

Now that he was keeping up a constant motion, the statues were turning slowly in their spots, keeping their left foot on the tree trunk. The right rose and fell, stretching out to one side and then forming a triangle against the other, arms linking above their heads before sweeping their whole bodies in a giant spin in time to the swooping musical score.

The music, now he could hear it fully, was a score of epic composition, not just harp but a medley of instruments that he couldn't identify - something told him he never would, either. Together with the spinning dancers, it captivated him, drawing all his attention to the strains of the music and their motions. His eyes flicked from one dancer to the next, not noticing that he was looking at all of them, despite the tree trunk being in the way.

With his mind caught in the net of notes, he did not see the centre of the tree split open like a flower, folding down to reveal a spinning platform, the main trunk hovering magically above. He knew that was where he was supposed to be, and let go of the handle. It kept turning by itself.

Once on the platform, it began to spin him, just like the squirrel dancers. The golden rings on his arms and legs glowed for a second, then he was moved in exactly the same way, a tenth dance in the centre of the nine. Despite his balloon nature, he moved with elegance he could never manage in real life, his shemale body dancing through the day like the lifeless wooden mannequins, his motions no longer his own.

*

Alan was immobile, too. He'd been turned to a partridge, feminized, rubberised and now he couldn't even move. Locked into place in the gap where the centre of the trunk should be, he would have been shivering with his need if he could. He'd been dancing too much, and the sight of those beautiful wooden bodies moving just like him had turned him on even more. His erection, like a long party balloon, had grown further beyond the devilish golden ring that kept him constrained, and his breasts ached to be touched.

And they would be. Something was banging on the tree trunk, beating a rhythm that shook the wood. Another pair of hands began to beat as well. And then more and more, a constant thudding that made his rubber from vibrate.

He couldn't move to see what his newest tormentors would be. Something big, they had to be to beat that hard. One was climbing now; he could hear wood splintering beneath the claws as it hauled itself onto the branch behind him. He could feel the creature's breath on the top of his head, the scent of a male wafting over his nostrils.

Massive brown furred paws grabbed his arms, and bent him over. Rubber tail feathers stuck up in the air, and beneath them his wide, rounded buttocks offered themselves up, inviting the drummer to begin his work.

The first taps were light, enough to make sure Alan knew he'd been hit, but not enough to hurt. The rubber shook for a second, then faded. More blows rained down on his rear, harder now, deforming the rubber before it sprang back, the shock vibrating around his taught skin, no inch left unstimulated.

And then the beast started to beat in earnest. Each hit was hard enough to bend his legs before he sprung back up. Air rushed from his rear, causing the rest of his body to swell as it shook, his skin straining to contain it.

As they were pushed in and out by the airflow, Alan's eyes distorted too, shaking his view of the world. With his head bent down, his shuddering vision revealed the next drummer climbing up: a bear, his massive figure strung with muscles and then layered with fat. His arms were as thick as the branches he hauled on, and enormous paws reached up towards the immobile shemale.

His touch was almost gentle, at the start. He caressed the partridges' shoulders and breasts, as if testing them to find how to get the best sound. Then with a violent twist, he hauled on Alan's torso, distorting the plastic stomach to a plastic spiral that no air could pass. He stared upwards. The extra compression caused air to shoot into his breasts, pushing them out from small mounds into proper balloons, his nipples stretching over the top, and he panicked in his immobile shell.

The bear wedged Alan's head between his legs. Inches away from that fat cock, he could smell it, and every beat from behind pushed his open beak a little closer to the tip.

And then the second bear began to play him, too. Hard slaps landed on those overly sensitive nipples, and Alan tried to scream. His entire body rang with the beat. He could no longer see as the bear started to enter his mouth, the cock tasting on masculine musk. At the same time, the other bear thrust up into his rear, the two hard length providing the only solid things in his shuddering, twisted body. Under a rain of blows, he shook around their meat.

Unable to think properly under the punishing stimulation, all that ran through his empty head was the fact there were eight more drummers to pound his body.

*

His body burned. Cum was spattered around his holes, dried to his latex body. He couldn't wipe it off, of course, not with his body made into a paralysed sex toy. Not that he was - the repeated spankings of the bears had left him feeling so sensitive that any touch anywhere on his body was too much - and they had touched him so much over the past day.

The rubber that now made up his flesh had actually changed colour; despite having no blood supply it had reddened over his round buttock and breasts, evidence of his use marked on his body.

They hadn't touched his cock, though. He was half grateful for that, dreading the harsh punishment on that tender organ, but the vibrating stimulation had increased his horniness, even more than just being fucked by ten hot guys would have. He needed to be touched, each moment a desperate struggle for sexual stimulation that would only bring him closer, but knowing that it would never be enough. Not for another day.

He could hear them beneath him now. The bears had left him standing in the centre of the tree, unable to see the next wave of tormentors. Pipers, though? How bad could they be?

They were dogs - dalmatians, to be precise - and they didn't have any musical instruments. Instead, they were wearing trousers supported by bright red braces, and red helmets with a badge on the front. Glancing at each other and smiling, they barked to each other, "Gee, looks like she's burning up over there!"

"Just look at the colour on those cheeks!"

"Guys! We're going to need to hose this down before the whole tree goes up!"

Laughing, they hauled up a massive hose from the ground floor. Pipers: firemen.

A burst of water spattered off Alan, the rubber repelling the water. He was knocked back, tumbling into the twigs, unable to move to check his fall. The water was cooling, but he knew it wasn't going to end there.

"Uh oh! Looks like that fires burning too deep inside! We'll have to use special measures this time!"

A hand grabbed his head. The head of the fire hose must have been four inches across, the metal valve on the end holding back the torrent of water just in front of his face. Strong canine hands opened his beak, stretching it wide, the strong iron taste rubbing over his rubber tongue as they forced it in. His neck distended in turn, bulging out it the shape of the hose.

With the lever that controlled the flow sticking out of Alan's neck, the dogs fingers had to stretch his skin painfully to operate it. A gush of water flowed out, a trickle at first, then a true torrent flooded out. With nowhere to go, the water filled him heavily, his legs leaden and dense.

His body had only held air, and the cum jetted into it by the swans and the bears. The milk from the cows had been warm and pleasant, but this was cold and uncomfortable inside him, his body ballooning and sagging down beneath the weight. The pressure pushing him out deformed his feminised body, and his immobile legs sagged under the weight, toppling him to the branches where he wobbled and rippled.

The dalmatians rolled him onto his back, water sloshing inside. He hadn't finished filling yet, but the stream was now submerged, a series of bubbles coming out of his neck. His head had filled up, and his hearing was dense and echoing, as if his consciousness was what was underwater, not him being simply filled. His eyes were bulging like fish eyes, too.

As the cold water rose up his belly, it pushed out his bulging tits as well. The cold water froze his nipples from the inside, causing them to tighten more. The last air in his torso slipped out of his nipples with a rubbery squeak.

There was one part that hadn't been filled yet, though. The ring around his cock didn't just cut off his pleasure - it had stopped any water filling the most sensitive part of him. Straining upwards, it wobbled and juddered as the water rippled within him until one of the dogs grabbed it, sending an electric thrill through him. The tip of a hose was pushed into his delicate urethra, making him beg for the ability to scream within his bloated, immobile body.

Water spurted into him, like an orgasm in reverse. His long rubber dick swelled with the fluid, the weight forcing it to bend down amidst the folds and ripples of his belly, and his delayed pleasure grew.

*

The twelve lords were different species this time. Six lions, their manes flowing with golden hair, and six mighty stags, their antlers crowned with sparking gold. Their bodies were the epitome of masculinity, tall and powerfully built, heavy with thick muscles that could be seen rippling beneath the short coats of the lords of the jungle, and the brown sheen of the monarchs of the glen.

His deflated, useless body was nothing in comparison. When the water had left him overnight, it had taken all rigidity from him, leaving behind an empty wrap of latex. The lions grabbed him, and began to blow up up, inflating him through his beak. It wasn't a kiss: this was simply to put air into him. They were treating Alan like he wasn't a person at all, just a toy they had found lying around.

And god, that turned him on so much.

That was what his body was for now. Rubber, air filled breasts stuck out in front of him, his waist narrowing before widening out to big, feminine hips and a rounded arse, his cock standing up proud in front of him, advertising the fact that he was for sex, and nothing more. And that was how they used him.

Overfilled with air, the lions and stags tossed him between them. Cocks slid through his soft beak, and between his buttocks, the ring of his anus giving under the pounding. And the worst part of it was how badly he wanted it.

These men were here to for their own pleasure, not his, he knew and cum jetted over his tits and spattered inside him. He had become just an object, and it was his duty to serve these men, who were so much more than him, their muscles rubbing against his weak body, their hard chest pressing against his breasts, the hard chest he had given up to become the plaything of their desires. His cock throbbed as he served his lords, as he brought them pleasure, but it was not his place to feel that pleasure.

He was just a toy.

*

At the end of the day, the lions and stags tossed him aside, discarded like a used tissue. Cum was caked on him. And this was the last day. There were no more people coming, and he still hadn't cum.

All he could do was think about his dick, now, as though it was the centre of his being. sensations throbbed up and down it agonisingly, and he strained ever muscle in his body trying to reach it, to tear that ring off even if it meant bursting his dick. But of course he had no muscles. Nothing happened.

<i>"Are you really that desperate?"</i> whispered a voice in his mind.

He recognised it instantly; it was the one who had orchestrated his torments, his lover the mage. <i>"Jacob?"</i> he thought. <i>"Is that you? You can read my mind?"<i>

<i>"Of course I can."</i>

<i>"Where are you? Help me! I need to cum so bad!"</i>

<i>"I'm right here. I have been all along."</i>

The tree wrapped itself around him, twigs entwining to hold him up. Alan realised that Jacob had been watching him get fucked the whole time, taking his pleasure from his use. The cruelty of the man, driving him to the limits of pleasure and then stopping him going over-

<i>"Please! Please let me cum!"</i>

Branches lifted his hollow form. The cradled his buttocks, holding him above a thick, rounded branch, and caressed his breasts. <i>"How badly do you want it?"</i>

<i>"I'll do anything!"</i> He would have shuddered, but his body was stuck staring forwards, the patient toy.

<i>"Anything?"</i>

<i>"Anything!"</i>

<i>"Would you be mine?</i>

<i>"Yes!"</i>

<i>"My toy, for the rest of time?"</i>

<i>"YES!"</i>

<i>"My pretty partridge, a latex lovedoll, for me to play with whenever I like?"</i>

<i>"Y-yes..."<i>

<i>"Just to cum once?"</i>

His mind was open to Jacob. There was no way he could lie. There was no way he could say no.

<i>"Yes."</i>

<i>"Good toy."</i>

The branch thrust hand between his buttocks. At the same time, another forced down his throat, his beak bending around it. At the same time, the twigs wrapped around him ran him up and down on the branches, forcing him to ride them. Hard wood dug into his nipples, sending electric shocks through him. He was so utterly filled by the tree.

And it wasn't enough.

Leaves wrapped themselves around his long cock, gently rubbing up and down. Need filled his length, and he tried to thrust into their grasp, but his toyified body would not respond. And it wasn't enough.

Stimulated from all directions, twigs crawled over his plastic skin. Not an inch of him was left alone, and the knowledge that he was giving it all up, his chance to really be a person, just for one moment of pleasure, still wasn't enough to overcome the power of the ring.

And then something touched the ring. With a bright shine it disappeared, and finally the eight days of pleasure erupted out of him.

It felt as though his entire body was forcing its way out of his cock. pulses of infinite ecstasy leapt from his groin, shooting over the rest of his body, electric liking his ravaged arse and raw throat to the tortured nipples of his rippling breasts. He tried to scream as his mind was drawn into his dick.

And it continued. The force of the orgasm wiped his thoughts from his head, leaving room for nothing but pleasure. For whole minutes, his body was immobile not due to his plastinisation, but due to the ultimate pleasure that anyone could feel.

He came down from the high eventually. Wrapped in the branches, he tried to lift a hand to caress his lover, before remembering he couldn't. <i>"And I didn't get you anything..."</i>

The branches squeezed tight for a second. <i>"You got me you."</i>

Alan's mind quivered in his latex prison, remembering his promise to be a toy. <i>"So... what now?"</i>

<i>"I'll turn us back to normal. In a bit."</i>

Alan was confused. <i>"But what about..."</i>

Jacob picked out the question from his mind. <i>"You know I was just roleplaying with the whole permanent toy thing, right?"</i>

<i>"Oh..."</i> Alan was slightly relieved, but at the same time- <i>"You were just messing about?"</i>

<i>"It seemed like the right thing to say at the time."</i>

<i>"It was"!</i>

<i>"Although I don't have to turn you back so soon..."</i>

Alan would have closed his eyes and pushed back into the embrace of his lover, but his body was not his own.