Forniphilia - The art of human furniture

I’d lusted after her for some time. Having followed her through the small amount of modeling she had done, I had grown to be an avid fan. Not only because she was innocent and beautiful, but also because it was clear how much she loved bondage and submission. Living the life of a fetish model, I was always surprised that she complained as much to me about not being able to truly submit. Her last boyfriend was handsome for sure, but not into the “scene” as they say, and constantly disapproving of her work in bondage.

We had done about everything we could think of with Jane. After only 3 years, she had been modified and manipulated in every way imaginable. As I admired her rigid body, listening to her subtle whimpering beneath the inflated bladder stretching her jaws, I couldn't help but feel sad that I wouldn't have her to torture any longer. Three years ago, when she had written me with her interest in becoming the ultimate bondage toy, I hadn't believed someone like her existed. But after many months of conversation, we finally met, and I realized that she was for real.

Chapter One
The girl stood on the front porch. She was tall and lithe, unusually pretty, her lightly tanned face framed exquisitely by her long, dark hair. Her wavy locks, raven black and shining in the morning sun, cascaded halfway down her back. The girl was indeed pretty – but her hair was startling beautiful, the kind of hair that drew admiring stares from men and envious glances from women.

Jasmine and Mike had been together for a year now, they had a good strong relationship and a healthy sex life. Mike had no complaints with Jasmines body as it got him hard whenever she stripped and showed off her assets. She kept it in shape by visiting the gym regularly; she loved showing it off as much as she did giving it exercise.