Dialogue
- 2 years ago
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Dialogue free porn video
If Thomas could not yet feel at home in his new apartment, then he could
at least feel at home in his body. To that end, there was nothing like a
morning jog through chill autumn winds to instill the sort of
invigorating ache in his lungs and bones that he needed to reinforce his
sense of self. As his rhythmic pounding of feet on concrete slowed, his
focus shifted to his echoing heartbeat and the door to his second story
apartment. He tried to be quiet as he made his way back inside his not-
yet-home since his roommate didn't share his enthusiasm for mornings.
Unfortunately the air pressure differential meant the door dragged open
then thumped closed after he slipped inside.
She preferred Len to Glenda and sleeping on the couch to hauling herself
to bed after a long night of drinking. A cold burst of air stabbed her
eyes and forced her into the waking world. "Fuck," she said between
smacks of her crusted lips. She knew better than to ask him why he was
awake so early. He was like a rooster whose neck she wasn't allowed to
snap. "Hey, you cock."
"Good morning," he said with his head in the refrigerator. "We have some
parmesan reggiano left from Italian night. I could make you an omelet
with it. A sprig of parsley isn't ideal but-"
"No! Damn it. Coffee." She heaved her pantsless legs onto the floor
and began her stumbling crawl to the percolator.
Suit yourself, he thought. After a few minutes of eggs on low heat,
eager whisking and a single careful fold, the omelet was his to enjoy
alone save for the disappointment that he was out of fresh dill. He
joined his slovenly companion at their tiny dining table where she nursed
a hot cup of stale brew. "You should drink your beer the same way."
"I wouldn't drink it if I had to taste that crap." She downed the
remainder in one spiteful swig and hid her discomfort from him as best as
she could. Television seemed like a good idea until the caffeine kicked
in. A pre-show advertisement for her coffee brand promised smoothness in
every cup. "I don't know who they're fooling with these ads."
"They want you to feel like you don't have a better option." He turned
back from the bathroom door. "I'm going to take a quick shower then I
might need your help with something."
"Alright," she said. Knowing him, it couldn't be anything too demanding
of her. He seemed to be the sort who always had to do it himself. He
immediately entered his room after his shower and eventually emerged with
a box of supplies and a bald cap secured over his hair and ears. "Who
taught you how to use a condom? I'm joking, I know what it is," she said
as he began to interrupt with an explanation.
"I'm doing a makeup test ahead of a monologue for my theatre class. Are
you familiar with Neil Simon's 'Last of the Red Hot Lovers'?" She shook
her head. "It's a play with a number of popular monologues and while I'm
sure Dr. Lavoie wouldn't be surprised to hear one this semester, she
might be sur-"
"Nope. It's a theatre class. Drag has never been surprising." He was
clearly in search of an explanation. "Does the play have any werewolves?
Zombies? Demons? That's how I knew. I totally could have helped you
with one of those other looks. I've had a thing for horror special
effects since 6th grade and I've figured out a thing or two. I'll show
you some pics later." He set down the box and lifted from it an object
in the rough form of a bust. "Ooh, you're going all the way with
prosthetics." He nodded. "I could see that impressing the teacher. She
won't let it influence your grade if she's any good at her job but she'll
be impressed."
"I agree, but I still want to do something a bit different. While a
standard full head mask would look fine in still pictures, I would only
be able to secure edges around the eyes and mouth so I wouldn't have a
full range of expression." He separated the clamshell halves of the bust
and laid them open side up on the kitchen table. "Individual prosthetics
would mostly eliminate that problem but it would require hours of
application each time. I'll be right back," he said as he took off to
his room. He came back with two large teardrop molds whose purpose was
obvious. "What if the prosthetics could be molded directly onto the
body?"
Len remained skeptical of the conclusion that Thomas was clearly
reaching. "I'm no expert on injection molding but I'm pretty sure that
it involves high pressure. And knowing how thick liquid rubber can be,"
she said as her distressed voice trailed off. "This doesn't sound safe."
"I thought of that. So instead of using an injection molding process,
I've opted for an expanding foam silicone. I brushed a few layers of cap
plastic on the inside of the molds last night so they're good to go." He
poured some super glue onto an applicator sponge then applied a heavy
layer over his chest. "While that's drying, I can mix the silicone,
pigment and foaming agent. Another advantage is that it uses a third of
the silicone of normal prosthetics as it will triple in volume." He
carefully measured then quickly mixed the ingredients before smearing the
viscous rubber into the breast molds. The molds were clamped onto his
chest with his hands as an improvised bra. "It's going to take about ten
minutes to cure so I'm going to wait on the couch." She loudly cleared
her throat. "Right, I forgot. I'll stand over on the tile."
She sat on the couch and returned to her show, leaving her bald and
mostly naked roommate alone with his budding bosom. She craned her neck
to continue their increasingly awkward conversation. "So, you said this
was a makeup test. Are you testing the method or the look?"
"The look, so I'm certain it's safe." He eventually felt a tickling
sensation then pressure from the expanding rubber creeping against his
skin. He responded by steadying his grip. Eventually he could feel the
silicone seep out from under the edges. He had to be slow and gentle as
he broke the vacuum seal between the mold and his new breasts. The pull
of adhesive confirmed that they would not be coming off by accident. Len
saw as Thomas walked across the apartment that they didn't bounce at all
like real breasts. She had seen silicone prosthetics in action before
and figured that the foaming agent was responsible for the stiffness.
"I didn't think I'd be saying this until June but are you going to paint
those nipples?"
"I did add a bit of detail, didn't I?" She had to laugh at his
understatement. "I'll be painting them to match the rest so if I want to
be thorough then I might as well. But I want to get the rest of the
prosthetics in place first so we'll move on to the head and hands."
She assumed he meant an at-home manicure but wasn't surprised when he
came out of his room with another set of molds for his hands and
forearms. "I feel like you're taking this too far for a school
assignment. I bet she didn't even ask you to dress up."
"Then it's a test in case I ever have to." He opened the glove molds on
the tabletop and Len's suspicions were confirmed with a glance. She knew
where an argument would end up but she was past asking questions.
"If you were aiming for realism, then you would not be wearing these
bulky gloves. You would use foundation and nail polish. You're using a
class assignment as a flimsy excuse to turn yourself into a rubber doll."
He feigned incredulity. "How could you possibly think that I- I mean,
not that there's anything wrong with having a kink or fetish but-" He
saw that she wasn't buying it. "Okay, so I thought it would be fun to be
a doll for a day. Do you have a problem with that?"
"I have a problem with lying. If you had told me this morning 'Good
morning, Len! I'm going to super glue rubber to my face, hands and chest
because I want to look like a plastic bimbo!' then I would have asked you
to not get anything on the carpet because that shit does not scrub out."
He was cupping his breasts until he could get a bra out of his room. "So
you're okay with it?"
"It shouldn't matter," she said before taking the morning into full
account. "That is, unless you can't get in and out of this without
help."
"I've worn the mask and breasts before. I suspect that if I glue on the
gloves, my hands will be completely useless."
"You see? This is why you have to be able to talk about these things.
How do you know I'm going to let you out when we're done? To be clear, I
would but I'd probably leave you in it for a while longer to teach you a
lesson-" She saw his eyes light up and sighed in frustration. "-and
that's part of your fetish, of course."
"You said you'd let me out if I put on the gloves. Please?" She wasn't
used to hearing pleading from him and was missing his old self already.
"It's about eight right now. I'm heading out at noon for lunch and then
I'm at the hospital from two until morning. You'd get maybe a couple of
hours in that whole getup before I'd have to start getting your hands
out. You know what? I'll make you a deal. Leave the gloves off today
and we'll schedule a play day when we have more time for it. I still
have a headache and the last thing I need right now are fumes in my sinus
cavities."
He sighed in resignation. "Okay." He left again for his room and came
back in a simple white bra. "I'm stopping after the mask. I promise."
"Hey, I just don't want to see you in the emergency room tonight. We get
enough people in there because they were too embarrassed by their kink to
do it the right way. They always say it was an accident. How do you
accidentally get a toy car up your ass?"
A compromise was reached and a plan for the day set. He poured more
super glue on to an applicator sponge and coated his face and neck. He
continued as best as he could around the rest of his head until he was
certain he would be perfectly bound by the mask. Len's curiosity dragged
her from the couch to the kitchen to watch closely as he measured and
combined more of the rubber, pigment and reagents. It was smeared along
the plastic lining of the molds. "So, I'm seeing some 'inserts' here.
I'm guessing they're for breathing but they make this whole thing look
like a torture device."
"It's not that bad. The eye covers keep it from sealing my eyes shut as
it expands. The tubes for my nostrils allow me to breathe through the
mold and the mouthpiece," he said as he held the back half of the mold in
place against his neck, "allows for breathing through a small slit and
fills the inside of my mouth to make sure the lips are aligned." He
wrapped his jaw and lips around the pliable gag and carefully let the
other inserts settle in place as the two halves were forced together to
form a tight seal against his collarbone. He blindly fumbled for the
latches that would keep the mold from separating and to his pleasant
surprise felt Len's fingers on his as she secured it for him. She said
something that he guessed was "Ten minutes" but it didn't matter. Now
all he could do is wait. It wasn't long until he felt the material
expand into the cavity as it caressed his cheeks and kissed his lips.
Swallowing became more difficult as his neck was corseted in the
expanding foam rubber. His jaw pressed further into the gag. His
fingers picked away at tiny bits of rubber that seeped out under the
seal.
He undid the latches around his head and starting with the back half,
released himself from his contraption. He ran his fingertips along the
smooth plastic-encased rubber enclosing his head and tried to pull the
gag free through his frozen lips. The mask pulled on his skin as the
vacuum seal against his new face broke and the saliva-soaked gag slipped
out. He closed his eyes again as they adjusted to the light in the room.
"Welcome back," said his roommate. "You're looking more like a cheap sex
toy already." He went to the bathroom mirror and saw that it had all
come out as expected. He still needed cosmetics as his bust, except for
his shoulders, was a solid pale mass. He tested the range of motion in
his new face. Smiling proved impossible as his lips were fused into a
semi-permanent pout. Any attempt to stretch his jaw wider would sting.
He was no more than a hairless doll in need of painting.
"You alright in there?" He came out to assure his roommate. "Can you
say anything?" He could only reply with humming. "I'm wondering how you
imagined this playing out if I didn't call you out on your bullshit." She
gasped with melodramatic flair. "How could this be? You're never going
to be able to perform in that. I guess you'll have to be my doll forever
now!" He accepted the good-natured mockery and laughed as well as the
mask would allow. "Or at least until you got tired of smoothies. Okay,
now I want to see what you look like painted." He sounded surprised at
least. "Yes, really. It's better than television and I have a few hours
to kill."
He started by applying more adhesive to visible seams to blend them into
his skin followed by concealing foundation to his chest above his
breasts. According to its advertising, its opacity was enough to cover
tattoos. He could believe it after seeing it in action for the first
time. He still was not about to go out into the world in this state so
he focused on making what he could see in the mirror presentable. False
eyebrows and eyelashes were stuck in place after dark eyeshadow and
eyeliner made his eyes pop. He felt he could skip the contouring as the
rubber gave him precisely the cheekbones he wanted. A light touch of
peach blush and matching lip color were certainly welcome.
"Nice," said Len as Thomas finally returned the blush to his lip gloss.
"I might get you to do my makeup some day." He hummed affirmatively then
rose to fetch a long, brown wig from his room. A bit of glue held its
lace in place against the plastic surface of his silicone scalp. He
turned to Len and inquired of her opinion with a hum. "You look perfect
for pictures but lousy for video. You mentioned dressing up before.
What sort of clothes do you have for- I'm sorry, I have so many
questions." He tried to assure her that her curiosity was welcome. He
went to his room and came out dressed for the first time this morning
since his shower. His outfit had been planned to compliment his makeup.
A low-cut orange blouse, tan leggings and a short, black skirt completed
his ensemble for now. He would have to practice in heels eventually but
it could wait for another day.
"So now what?" He threw up his hands, shrugged his shoulders and plopped
onto the couch at last to watch a bit of television. "I should have
guessed." She joined him on the couch until lunchtime inevitably rolled
around. Normally they kept their distance from each other but today,
perhaps because he had shown trust in her and she respected him for it,
they put their arms around each other. He could only feel her warmth
against his arms but that would have to be enough. Their comfort with
each other grew until Len, knowing she would be the only one to ask,
turned to face him. "May I?" Her lips puckered and pressed into his.
Her tongue explored his mouth as little as his mask would allow. He
pulled her onto his lap and held her in a tight embrace. He felt her
pulling herself away and he let her go with deep concern.
"That was fun. Seriously! I just- I- I remembered something that I have
to do before lunch and work so- Are you going to be okay in there?" He
did his best to assure her that he was okay and would be okay.
"Alright." She hit the showers and left him alone as his creeping self-
doubt burned away any confidence that he may have earned this morning.
She emerged from the bathroom in hospital scrubs to find him resting
silently on the couch. His inability to keep his mouth closed without
effort added to his discomfort. "I'm heading out. We'll talk about this
later but I want you to know that you did nothing wrong. Do you trust
me?" He didn't respond. "I need to know if you trust me." He finally
nodded. "Good."
She turned back at the door. "Did you remember to use release agent on
your eyebrows?" The sudden realization startled him awake. "Uh-oh!
Have fun with that!" She wondered if he took that literally then left
until morning.
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