This disclaimer must be read before reading further:


The following story is fictional and contains explicit pornographic material; it is not for minors or the close-minded.


Alex Streuth is the pseudonym of the author and a fictional character in these stories.  Any characters, places, businesses and/or circumstances etc. described herein are entirely fictional.  None of the following is based on real organisms or organizations, and any semblance to anyone or anything real, living, deceased or imaginary, (except where specifically noted in the ‘Continuity and Background’ and ‘Literary Notes’ sections) is purely coincidental.


This story is copyrighted (July 2005 & February 2006) by the author with permission granted to make copies only for personal use, they may not be redistributed to others.


The author cannot be responsible for the existence or delivery of any content which some may find offensive; reader be warned, by continuing further with this document you agree not to hold any party responsible for the delivery or existence of its contents.


Due to the extreme nature of the following material the author advises anyone who has stumbled across this document by mistake to destroy it if it is in the form of a hard copy, or to delete it and then write over its memory address if it is a soft copy.


Thank you and enjoy the following quality presentation.




Continuity and Background:  This story takes place within the charming dominion of Cherish Valley, if you have never visited here before it is a place where girls are reared to respect the lordship of men and the dominant fashion of the ladies in town is preened and in pink.  The original story written by “The Mayor” is titled ‘Pretty Wives in Pink’ and is modeled after the town of Stepford  (The novel “The Stepford Wives” is ubiquitous enough, but you may find the graphic novel “Stepford Bound” (by Simon Benson) useful for further reference.)  TheMayor’s work can be found at and I recommend stopping by if you like my work.

My influences come from the writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well as fiction from and thundershrk.  The prominent themes are humiliation, degradation, mental conditioning, transformation, modification, bimbofication, objectification, big boobs, huge lips, forced feeding, dehumanization, helpless females, Dominant males, and long term suffering and servitude.




About the Author:  My hobbies include collecting, examining, and designing.  I sometimes come across inspiring stories or goings-on about Cherish and have been asked by the “Committee for the Preservation of the Historical Record of Proper Female Deportment” (the CPHD) to assemble and detail these accounts for posterity.


Authorship Disclosure:  The following material originates from personal first-person observations, from video recordings, diaries, medical and scientific notes and other privately held (and confidential) sources, as well as from public town events and records.  I then transpose these accounts into the third person and pen these tales in my free time.  While this is intended as a work of non-fiction for Cherish public record some dramatic and editorial license has been taken to help increase readership interest.


Also, as I am extremely busy not all of the gathered data can be included in each presentation.  If you are an accredited researcher with a genuine academic interest you may be allowed access to more extensive information.  In order to request this more thorough (and graphically detailed) explanation of certain material presented, please send your request (noting with which area of record your particular interest lies) to 






Mr. Argyle’s New Wife







 “Oh Honey Honey, Oh Sugar Sugar  You are my Baby Doll…  and you got me wanting you…”  Melissa’s owner whisked into the room, singing to himself, eagerly awaiting the unveiling of his new present.


“Mr. Argyle, may I present you with your order, one living breathing little cherub, a picture of porcelain beauty, shrinkwrapped and delivered on time, your very own little baby doll,” Mr. Streuth introduced the newly minted Melissa to her owner.


“Oh that’s excellent Mr. Streuth, she’s ever so adorable, isn’t she, mmmm, I’m just going to hug her and squeeze her and put her up on my display shelf for all of my visitors.”  Ryan Argyle sidled up to his precious new angel, stunningly preened and dressed in a cacophony of garish pinks and whites, their bright tonic colours irrsascibly speckled with frilly lace and silly adornments.  A pastel pink bonnet adorned her adorable little head, her beautifully manicured facial features dimpled and ever-so picture perfect, each drop of mascara, each drawn eyebrow meticulously placed with care.  Her pale complexion smacked of artificial cosmetics, and the make-up techniques of the whores of yore.


A trim taffeta of tiny rustles and bells graced her frilly bouffant hair-do.  Every time she moved the tiniest tinkle of bells would accompany the mincing steps of her tightly cobbled and disciplined ankles.  Her hands were ever so adorable inside of their training mittens, a tight pink latex sheen devouring her digits and suckling up to her wrists there to capture and command her manual dexterity.  A quick glance surely indicated that this young morsel was a conversation piece and not a laborer.  Mr. Argyle smiled pleasantly down at his new doll, quite happy with Melissa’s conversion from uppity young woman to beautifully preserved wall decoration.


Although to be fair she did serve some purpose other than eye candy.  Her orifices were conveniently lined with wet rubber tubing, the better to facilitate congress with a man’s loins.  Melissa’s plushly lined lips bulged fetchingly with the collagen tubing that Dr. Spencer had so generously added in copious amounts.  Indeed, the demure young lady would find it very difficult to talk with such cumbersome fish lips adorning her mouth.  Where before the young woman had had a nice set of succulent female lips, the enhancement surgery she had undergone had made the things monstrous.  If one were to take a ruler and measure the grotesque protuberances from her oral orifice, as Argyle was now ardently doing, one would find that the things dominated the young doll’s face, filling her lower face out nicely.


Ahh, 5” diameter, with a nice, plush 2” circumference, your man knows his job Streuth.”  Argyle did not specify a width or height to the lips since their new configuration resembled a circular hole, they were completely round, leaving a nice, fat opening in their middle for easy access.


“Well your orders did specify that you wanted the ‘donut style’ enhancement to the facial accommodation, and we are nothing if not thorough Mr. Argyle.  We appreciate your business very much.”


“Yes, yes Streuth,” Argyle deflected Streuth’s patronizing tone to continue with more important matters:  “Are the other orifices similarly implemented?”


“Oh yes Mr. Argyle, you can see for yourself, each entrance has been lined with wet rubber to facilitate rapid and easy access, and to increase the elasticity and resistance to injury of the hole.  If you just tip her back a bit, you can use the handi-grip located on top of her head…” Argyle slid the bonnet to the side to reveal the ‘handi-grip,’ a metal ring, shaped for ergonomic gripping and torque, welded to a steel grommet that had been implanted directly into the doll’s cranium.


“Ah, very nice Alex, very nice--How strong is this grip?  Should I be gentle?”


“Oh no its very resilient.  It has been affixed directly to the bone in the girl’s head.  Her whole scalp has been denuded, so you will have to outfit her with wigs if you want her to have hair, however I think you will find it a most pleasant experience to be able to run your fingers over the nude scalp of a…”


Argyle rolled his eyes, it was common knowledge around town that Streuth preferred women that had been forcibly given a bald pate.  He let Alex drone on for a few more seconds on his pet subject before interrupting him:  “My question Alex…  How strong is the grommet?”


“Oh, right,” Alex blushed slightly and then explained, “Well, basically, you can hang her from the ceiling by it indefinitely.  You shouldn’t subject it to more than 300lbs of stress for long periods of time, however.  Other than that though…”  He shrugged.


“Great, now, a few more things, I notice that we haven’t corseted her yet…”


Alex and Ryan went over the specifics of Melissa’s new condition, her transformation to a living doll as testament to Streuth’s proficiency as draftsman, and Dr. Spencer’s abilities as a ‘female engineer.’


A few of the more salient points are summarized here:


Introduction, Melissa’s Tits

Melissa’s mammories, previously a ripe 34D had been generously helped up to the much more pleasing stature of 36EE.  Ryan ran his hand over the taut, overfilled sacs, pushing them slightly to gauge their responsiveness.  The bladder of the implant inside of the tit had been filled to its limit, making the woman’s skin stretch out over its new occupant.  Each of Melissa’s nipples stretched out with the addition of the many CCs of silicone that had been pumped into each of her new implants.  The effect was to leave her with very large, obviously artificial tits which felt hard to the touch, like basketballs, and did not have much give in them.  At the insistence of Argyle’s inspecting hands Melissa’s new assets rocked back and forth on her chest.  At a shove from Ryan’s fingers the globes of skin would roll away and then swing back, like a balloon.  “Very nice,” Ryan stated.  “I like the way they sit away from each other on her chest too, normal tits don’t do that, the Doctor did a nice job of advertising their artificiality.”  Melissa winced slightly as Ryan said this.


A small part of her had died when she had been shown her new chest in the mirror.  Each blimp tit sat apart from each other on her chest.  Before her proud chest had hung naturally, soft, yielding, and situated as Mother Nature had directed.  Now, though, they sat apart from each other, taut, the size of small blimps, sticking out like rockets on her chest, hard to the touch and with a wide, weird empty space left in the middle of her chest formed after the augmentation had tightened the crease between her bust and her chest.


Introduction, Melissa’s Ass

Previously nicely shaped but also natural, Melissa’s god-given butt had adopted the more preferred shape of a heart.  The twin globes of Melissa’s soft cheeks had been made to bulge out like bubbles, giving Melissa the now classic ‘Cupcake’ style ass.  Melissa had been shone her new posterior, had watched as it had been shaped under the dutiful eyes of Dr. Spencer, and given a quick history of the tradition of the Bubble Butt in Cherish History.  Dr. Spencer had spoken reverently of the work of other doctors in the town, specifically of the doctor who had worked on Melvin’s dear ‘Cupcake.’  “Perfected the heart-shaped bubble butt, he did.  A fine man, an inspiration to us all,” Spencer had added.  Melissa was less than mollified by these words, indeed, to learn that she was being molded into such a studied form left her mortified.  “There we are,” Dr. Spencer had said brightly, holding a mirror up to her rear as one would do for a customer after cutting their hair.  “See, much better now.”  Melissa looked on aghast as her gaze took in an ass alien to her, it belonged to a stranger, surely, she thought.  Spencer reached down and pinched her, causing Melissa to jump and then cringe in horror as she realized that her rear was now a jutting toy for men to play with.  Spencer playfully slapped her rump next, encouraging her to adopt a posture that would show off her curves.


“Hmmm, not too happy with the changes are we?” Spencer had looked into Melissa’s eyes and seen fear and apprehension.  “This client requested a compliant dolly, so looks like we have a little bit of conditioning to do.”  Melissa struggled again against her bonds, her futile attempts igniting a bout of lust in the onlooking Streuth.  He thought it silly for a perfectly good fiery temperament like that to be deleted but ‘cest la vie’, the customer is always right.



Chapter 2, From Lab to Customer, as well as some other digressions


Streuth Manor

Alex turned his thoughts again to his own accommodations back at Streuth Manor and decided that, upon his return, he would take a good long time with one of his bound beauties in the punishment room.  He kept a steady rotation of girls coming through on minor infractions, his policy that a well disciplined household required a ‘well of discipline.’  His assistants had been confused when he had first announced this policy but in practice they quite well understood that it was not pleasant to be lowered down into this new horror, there to be subjected to tortures that are accomplished in the dark recesses of the very low levels.  It was a widely spread rumor that those that were lowered down into the well experienced levels of torture and abuse that left those ‘above-ground’ happy to endure what, by comparison, were the small injustices of complete body remodeling and commode duty.  In fact Streuth had started this rumor himself, knowing full well that a captive woman’s imagination runs wild when given the mere ability to entertain, and getting a nice return of reluctant compliance from those who could imagine what could actually be worse.  (The girls put into the well actually caused themselves more trauma through their fear and imaginings of what they were going to be made to go through, in truth Streuth did little more to them then put them in sensory deprivation and allow them to remain isolated for hours in the cold, dark, danp environment.)



The DoorGirl, 1, A violent encounter

No, Streuth just couldn’t wait to get back home where he could dish out his imaginative, sadistic delights onto unwilling women who could properly ‘enjoy’ it.  “None of this silly numb-mind crap,” Alex muttered to himself as he left the Doctor to his work and started for the door.  On the way out he passed by the door woman, a pitiful creature whose sole job it was to push a button with her nose whenever a person walked in or out of the lobby.  She was hobbled and bound into a chair, her head adorned with a blonde wig and her body completely bound into an unmoving position.  Her eyes followed Streuth as he walked passed and then, as he exited, she exerted her full ability to lean forward a tiny bit and press the button with her nose.  If the button were not depressed when the door opened she would receive an electric shock.  Seeing the outside to be cold and wet Alex stepped back inside to grab an umbrella.  “You poor thing, you must be so hot in that hugging latex they have you kept in,” Alex said in fake pity to the latex creature by the door.


The poor door woman nodded ever-so in response, she knew Alex well enough to be suspicious, but she was miserable inside the tight lycra.  She managed a meek ‘Yesh Shur,” spraying spittle all over the carpet as she did.


“Well,” Alex said, grabbing an umbrella and stepping out again, “Let’s let some fresh air in to cool you off then…” as he finished his face erupted into a smile of glee.  The quickly horrified young woman managed a brief protest as she saw Streuth prop the door open and stride off merrily.  She was shocked by a punishment jolt before she managed to strain her neck and depress the button to sound the chime that marked the opening of the door.  She held her nose there for as long as she could, straining to exert herself, knowing that when she let up the electricity would resume.


Streuth re-entered the room a moment later, relishing the site of the burdened woman.  “Oops, forgot my hat,” he added.  A few agonizing moments went by as Streuth watched the young girl intently, seeing her neck muscles tense and her face strain to maintain contact with the button.  Alex cracked his neck and leaned against a wall, not wanting to leave the show now that it was almost finished.  The door girl had begun to sweat and mewl pitifully in frustration.  Her breath was labored and quick, little snorts came out of her nose.  “You shouldn’t breathe so quickly, you’ll hyperventilate,” Alex added disingenuously to the suffering door tender.


Walking over to the door Alex unpropped it, allowing it to close.  The girl took the quick interlude to straighten up again and gulp some air to steady herself.  She looked up at Alex pitifully, begging him to let her be.  “Are you feeling better now, a little less stuffy in here, wouldn’t you say?”


“Yes, yesh please shur,” the thing babbled pathetically up at him.  Alex grinned down.


He sniffed the air around the girl.  The exertion had caused her to sweat all over her face and chest, and she stank of B.O.  “My oh my, but oh don’t you smell, what with all this sweat and all…”  Alex gathered up some of the woman’s sweat in his fingers, repulsed by it yet feigning pity.


“Thank you, thank you shur,” the woman sprayed more spittle as she continued her prattle.


“Open your mouth slut.” Alex commanded.  He moved his soiled fingers towards her mouth.


Yesth, yesth shur,” the door slave responded sycophantically.  She opened her mouth around the bit in it that compelled her slurred speech.  Alex wiggled his fingers into her oral cavity and wiped them off on the roof of her mouth.


“Such a disgusting beast you are, so smelly and vile with your fluids…”  Alex shoved two fingers up her nose and withdrew them with globs of mucus.  He was quite caught up in the degradation of the woman and this tempered his disgust as he continued.  “You really ought to put this stuff where it belongs.  All of this waste, it belongs in,” and here he punctuated his words by shoving his snot-covered fingers into her mouth, “the,” he violently shoved them further into her head, “trash!” Streuth betrayed his rising anger and excitement by jabbing violently into the girl’s face with his fingers.  Beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead and his eyes had taken on a slightly maniacal mean.  The poor girl was beside herself now, the abuse wasn’t much worse than what she was subjected to on a regular basis, a large tattoo on her face spelled out her intended usage as a waste receptacle:  “TRASH” was spelled out on her forehead, in big, bold letters.  Many visitors deposited their cigarette butts or picked their noses into her mouth, but usually they did so with detachment, they sat in the reading room and read the magazines.  She seldom saw the look in their eyes that she now saw in Alex’s, and she was scared.


Dr. Spencer, having glanced at the lobby’s CCTV feed on his way through the building’s nerve centre, arrived momentarily upon the scene.  He strode into the room, walked over to Alex and tried to calm him down, “Alex, Alex please behave yourself, this is a medical facility and I expect all of my visitors to treat my property with respect.”  Alex swallowed, clenched his eyes and then took a deep breath.


Streuth sighed, “You’re right Herbert, I’ve just had a long day, Argyle is really riding my ass about this order and I just need to get home where I can let off some steam.”  Spencer looked at him thoughtfully, he and Alex were good friends and colleagues, he hated to see his friend upset like this.  Still, he didn’t like to see his property abused wantonly, especially in his place of business.


“Please my friend, I mean you no disrespect, you are free to treat your own women any way you wish, but this,” he indicated his doorgirl and trashcan, “this unit belongs to me and it simply won’t do for you to damage it.”  Spencer waited a moment and then changed his tone to a more jovial one, “Besides, where would I get a replacement, eh?”  He gave the unit a pat on its head, as one does to a cherished possession, “Do you remember when we first designed this one?”  Alex and Herbert locked gazes and both lost themselves for a second in the fond memory, Ashley, meanwhile, the unfortunate girl who occupied the position of ‘lobby receptionist,’ as her official title declared, shuddered under Spencer’s hand.



The Doorgirl, 2, A Flashback

She remembered back to that fateful day when she had first gone under the knife.  She had been irreversibly reduced to the form of a head and a torso (‘The basic building block for any good utility’, Alex had penned in the margins of the design) and then subjected to a mouth widening surgery which left no question as to her intended purpose.  It was later that Alex innovated the part of serving as doorgirl, adding the buzzer that she could push with her nose:


“You’re being promoted,” Spencer had lovingly said to his trash can.  “Thanks to Streuth’s innovations you are now the official ‘lobby receptionist.’”  Ashley had been elated, thinking that maybe she would be outfitted with some sort of emancipating prosthetics or bodysuit, the way she had seen some of the other girls who had walked past her during her long tenure as ‘Senior Hall Trashcan’ in Spencer’s place of business.


It was with some trepidation that she had watched herself lowered into her present position.  She practically sobbed (Streuth watched greedily for her facial reactions) as she was presented with the buzzer accoutrement and treated as though she has just won the lottery.  “You should be honored to know that you will be providing my clients with their very first impression of Spencer Labs,” Herbert had continued warmly to the girl.  “I want you to know that you are being given a rare privilege, being allowed your voice so that you may properly greet each and every man that passes.”  Alex felt it a fitting greeting that the girl’s mouth be hobbled such that the massive lisp the bit she was fitted with, produced such lovely girl sounds as ‘Shello’, ‘Hesho’, ‘Welshcome’, ‘Greeshings’ and other cock warming salutations that the unit would be required to attempt on a regular basis.



A look into the characters of Alex Streuth and Herbert Spencer, particularly wherein concerns the matter of the fairer sex

Next followed a humiliating instruction in the performance of her function, Streuth had volunteered to teach her her new profession:


(The busy Doctor had acquiesced to this request, intent on the clinical and functional nature of the design, its implementation and capabilities his main interest.  Alex on the other hand considered himself a connoisseur of the ‘fine spirit of misery’ he acted to exact from every ‘drop of woman’s breath’ he could lay his hands on.)

“Its not that I have any particular malice against them, and in fact I have grown rather fond and appreciative of their frail natures…  Its just that I do so enjoy seeing them squirm.”


Spencer did not mind his friend’s proclivities, which he perceived as a distraction from the clinical study and practical usage that could be obtained from the female species, or ‘Sub species Homo Femalis’ as he referred to them in his treastise “The Biological Sub Status of the Human Female (Homo Femalis).”  Focusing on the more practical mastery of the female form, rather than the enjoyment of the suffering of the female spirit allowed Spencer to handle the more scientific aspect of study while Streuth handled the marketing appeal of new products.


“It will help ease the burden of man,” Spencer would often posit.


“Looks like it would be fun to play with,” Streuth would conclude.  The two certainly worked well together as a development team.



The Doorgirl, 3, A skippable interlude in face bondage

Streuth’s tutelage of Ashley went like this:  Ashley’s mouth was stretched wide, hobbled by the bit, her face stretched by multiple discipline lines that ran from her nostrils or from the skin by her eyes.  Streuth had introduced her to a little ‘face bondage,’ which differs from ‘head bondage’ in that it places strain emphasis on facial features rather than the head as a whole unit.  Ashley was quite beyond herself with discomfort and quite willing to comply with Alex’s instructions.  Her earlier petulance, a weird reaction considering that she had a denizen of Cherish for quite some time now, and the personal property of Herbert Spencer for a good portion of it, could be attributed to the new demands on her person made by her promotion and on the personal attention that she was not used to getting.  (It was one thing to make a scene when the only interaction one normally received was through a person unthinkingly putting a cigarette butt out near your eye and then popping the refuse into your mouth…  the most you could really do was spit it out, to which the man would usually just pick it up and put it back in again (thinking that he must have missed [since he wasn’t really watching what he was doing in the first place, his mind occupied by the magazine he was reading] and unmindful of the fact that the waste receptacle was in fact a human being) to which Ashley became accustomed to.  After a few weeks her interest in refusing to perform her duties as a waste can quickly passed as she noted the apathy with which she was treated.)


Here though, now, with Streuth training her, and taking personal interest in her, she found the desire to resist, to which Streuth toothily grinned (he would have been disappointed if she had acquiesced so easily [and probably gone off to devise some other torment to confront her with, in order to prompt a more desirable reaction.])



Mrs. Streuth’s Prayers

In fact, the best, most efficient way of getting Alex to let you be, as his wife had learned, through her many years of experience with him, was simply to feign or put up some show of horror or fear, a ‘play’ of resistance or reluctance to comply, and then to simply go along with the program, watching for signs that some sort of non-compliance was expected occasionally and hoping that his other interests or matters drew him away to something else before too long.  His wife maintained her sanity by serving socially in a few more ‘human’ capacities, she thanked god that Alex realized the need for some public relations and occasionally used her as a debutante or companion in social settings.  When back in the Manor she tried to become as uninteresting as possible in the hopes that he would simply ignore her and go off to work or play with some new toy.  It was all she could do to smile and behave sometimes, her desire to scream or berate Streuth erratically plaguing her.



Unbeknownst to the Misses, Alex was well aware of her feigned affections, and indeed relished making her recite her daily prayers (mostly adapted from Spencer’s treatise on the animal nature and sub species relation of women to men):  “And God did create man in his own image…  and God did create the animals, and various forms of lizards, and birds, and finally women were added to the world afterwards, to serve in Man’s domain and provide him with something to fashion in his own right,” was Alex’s favorite for his wife to recite.  The prayer recital was invariably done in typical Streuth fashion, with his wife kneeling before him, her head close to his loins, in a position of abasement and childlike reverence to his person and his cock.  He held an audio recorder near her and patronizingly motioned for her to begin her prayers.


The Prayer Bank

Afterwards he would place the recording into the library of her daily recitals, to be digitized and fed into the bank of available media to be played to her in her sleep.  Despite her avowal of ‘lip service’ which she ardently assured herself of, over time she had become slowly inured to the content of the recitals and had begun thinking of them in times of uncertainty.  Just last week she had been trying to think of what to do with her free time, a precious commodity and luxury afforded her occasionally because of her elevated social status in the Streuth household, and, instead of scheming to escape, or thinking of ways of getting back at Alex, which she had aggressively pursued in her beginning time in his retinue, she, increasingly, had become more interested in spreading the ‘Teachings of Alex’ to the rest of the household, and had actually had conversations with some of the other household possessions (the ones with those units that couldn’t respond were rather one-sided) and, despite herself, found herself taking Alex’s side in many of the discussions.


A discussion about Alex

“I hate him, he treats us like shit,” one unit had said to her one day.  Where normally she would have empathized with it and renewed her vow to find a way to bring ruin down upon him, Mrs. Streuth actually paused and said ‘Its for our own good, you know, Man knows what is best for woman.”  The dumbfounded dumbwaiter, a kitchen servitor, had stuttered out a “What?  That’s stupid.”  To which Mrs. Streuth had said, “Oh no, believe me, I know it seems weird at first, but, here in Cherish they’ve found the truth of God’s message to his creation.  I am a firm defender of woman’s rights, but, you’ve got it all wrong, don’t you see, women aren’t people!  It’s a simple misunderstanding really.  Oh I want the best treatment for us, but you have to trust that we simply aren’t meant to take care of ourselves, that’s Man’s role in God’s divine plan.”  At this point the dumbwaiter had been called upon for service and had left Mrs. Streuth talking to herself, but she had a faraway look in her eye anyway, like a proselyte who has seen the light, “We just need to give ourselves to Man in order to win God’s favor.  Its been true all along, our path to enlightenment is through man.  Since we aren’t human we cannot have souls, or find the grace of God without the transformative energy and purifying discipline of man’s ownership of us…”  Her eyes had taken on a dreamy quality and far away, on the other side of the house, a digital recording of her soliloquy was being filed in the daily archives, for Streuth’s perusal later, when he returned home.  The recording was marked in red, indicating that it would be of particular interest to Streuth.  He had directed that all of his wife’s free time activities be monitored and labeled for direct review.


Not that Streuth himself went in for such philosophy, but he enjoyed seeing the confusion and uncertainty that it created in even the staunchest lesbian feminist (on a scale of 1-10 for the type of women that he most enjoyed playing with most Alex reserved a special place for ‘militant rug munchers’, dubbing them ‘11s’ and requesting that they be sequestered in special rooms for his eventual indoctrination sessions, which he relished and scheduled for when he had long stretches of leisure time.)



Doorgirl, 4, Press the Button

Returning to the instruction Streuth was presenting to the bound and newly promoted receptionist:

“When the door opens, you press this button.”  Streuth opened the door, waited, watched, and Ashley glared defiantly at him, at least, as defiantly as one can when the skin next to one’s eyes is being pulled by little cords which wind around the back of your head.  The facial bondage exacerbated her helpless condition and provided Streuth with an amusing sight.  He so loved seeing the way that her upper teeth appeared bucktoothed when her upper lip was pulled up towards her forehead (Ashley’s teeth were left in to facilitate her purpose of processing waste, some of the customers deposited things that were simply to massive to swallow in one whole go, and chewing was required [cigars nubs, for example.])


Alex sighed (an affectation that indicated that, well, he had given her a chance, at least, to cooperate, Herbert couldn’t hold it against him if certain, technically damaging, incentives were needed to ensure compliance.)  Plugging the contraption into the wall (it was evidence enough that he had anticipated this eventuality, in fact, planned for it, by the presence of the wiring, at the get-go) activating the electric current that would serve as the young lady’s impetus for the remainder of her life (“One of the side benefits of being an employee here,” Doctor Spencer had informed her on her first day of ‘work’ with no tongue-in-cheek at all, since he felt that each woman surely should enjoy the fact that she was finally serving a purpose in their new roles as appliances or servitors for man…



Break for Spencer’s Treatise on Women

It should be noted that ‘Dr. Spencer’s Scientific Findings as they relate to the Divine’ have achieved some acceptance in the community of Cherish.  The greater majority of those who use Spencer’s teachings use them for their practical implications, they prove Man’s superiority over woman and support the need for Man to treat woman as a child race, an impetuous youngster who would, if left to her own devices, usurp the natural order and damage everything around her in her wild state.


In deference to Dr. Spencer and the fact that some of the more importance members of the Community accept them as Providence, I will try to include as much of his actual writings as possible.  (It should also be noted that Dr. Spencer does not consider himself as a Prophet, per se, but as an interpreter of revelations that have been obscured over history.)  Their relevance to the relationship between Men and women is important to the understanding of the why of Cherish’s existence, and Dr. Spencer believes they express some deep-seated intuitions that the men of Cherish have known but have been unable to articulate.  Since Mr. Argyle is fast becoming a practicing member of Spencer’s philosophy I have included salient material here to provide a more complete account of the specific merits of this belief system.


From Spencer’s treatise, ‘Divine Truth Concerning Men and women:’

“No woman can achieve any sort of actual purpose in life, that is, a glimpse of the Divine, if she is not being aided by a Man.  It is scientifically impossible for a woman to amount to anything spiritually, given her sub human status, unless she is aided by a human, or Homo Masculinis.  The Homo Femalis is an inferior ‘child’ race whose existence in its current state is a bizarre mix of genetic mutation and thousands of years of leeching Man’s divinity.”


“In the beginning, Man was pure, created in God’s own image, a perfect creation, intended to walk over God’s dominion and spread His will.  Woman was created later, when the animals were created, or perhaps when the insects were created, we can not be sure.  One thing that is sure, she was radically different in her biological make-up, and probably started out as a small animal or perhaps as a slug.”


“Man originally reproduced without woman, through a form of immaculate conception, no doubt provide by Man’s more divine nature at this point in history.  There was no ‘sex’ in the sense of the word back then, men were spiritual beings and were in God’s highest favor.


After this golden era, when man was in paradise, we find The Fall.  Man, in his trusting and benevolent nature, took woman under his wing, in the spirit of generosity and to spread God’s message.  We believe that woman had evolved or mutated into a more appealing form by this time, already intending to seduce Man away from his divine state in an attempt to take Man’s essence for herself.”


“We can not be sure of the exact when but sometime during this Golden Era, when man still possessed his full measure of divinity and woman still resembled her true self, perhaps a toad or a worm, it is hard to say, woman began to evolve towards a more seductive form, one that could lure Man away from his divine place.  The Golden Era ended with woman’s evolution of the first vagina, or lure.  She used it to disrupt Man’s natural biology.  The first act of congress between Man and woman was unnatural, against God’s wishes, and subverted Man’s divinity…”


“Woman is a parasite.  Through congress with the vagina she attempts to usurp the natural order.  In the first case of vaginal contact woman tried to steal some of Man’s Divine Essense, but her inferior biology was unable to process the God gene.  Man was severely weakened by this act of conress, however, and, over time, becames much more dependent on woman, who, in her envy of Man continues to this day to plot against him.”


“Today women have highly developed lures, seductive vaginas used to steal Man’s seed in an attempt to seize the Divine.  When God originally created Man he gave life through the Divine power of The Cock, His Divine Essence causing life to flourish on Earth.  Man was created in God’s image, Man’s Cock acting as a repository of the Divine.  It is this essence which woman tries, to this day, to steal through the false pleasures of vaginal congress.”


“Man was created to administer to God’s creatures, and in God’s grand plan woman may still play a part.  In her highly evolved state she has taken on many similarities to Man’s appearance, and may be able to be reconciled through a willing and calculated effort on Man’s part, once he has woken up to the true nature of woman, to bind and control her for her own good, to seal off her vile lure, and to place her on the path of salvation.”


“It is in every Man’s body, the sacred sperm that possesses the Divine, that Providence which gives Him dominion over God’s creation.  Man still receives God’s Favor in His ability to create life in His loins:  Man, truly, is the font of God’s pure essence.  If woman is to be put in her proper place it will be with the aid of this Divine Purifier, man’s holy essence.”


It continues, “Woman is a miracle of parallel evolution, mirroring man in many ways and indeed possessed of a highly evolved parasitic ability which has, over the ages, allowed her to insert herself into man’s reproductive cycle through the seductive use of her vagina [or lure.]”


Regarding woman’s evolution and the biology of humanity, “While certain theologians might argue that, given woman’s status as a highly evolved and organized organism she should fall under the category of human, because of her diminished spiritual capacity and virulent parasitic relationship with Man, I prefer to classify her as animal.  Either way she is not a human in the strictest biological sense, and here I differ with most modern medicine in that I see the existence of the Y chromosome as the only true reflection of a human.  It has been woman’s effect upon man to leech his essence from him, and to cause a change in his morphology, so that today his divinity is diluted.  In modern times man finds himself divorced from God, distorted from the image God created Man in.  Remember that, in the beginning, woman was (and remains to this day) a slug-like parasite, and man was (and remains to this day) a wholly separate species.”


“Furthermore,” Spencer continues, “After much perusal of historic documents, I would find that woman is in fact biologically descended from a much lower order.  It is my belief that her exposure to the superior biology innate in Man has allowed her to achieve her current classification as a simple mammal.  At some point in our history woman stole a part of Man’s essence, at that time it was as though woman, as we know her today, had been created in Man’s image.  The aberration of woman today is fashioned from a part of man, woman is a pale second mirror of God’s divinity.  She is unable to retain Divine qualities, but continues to try to milk man’s Divinity from him  It is a testament to her virility as a parasite that modern Man is mostly ignorant of his true biological history.”


”It is scientific fact that Man is simply better in all aspects of evolutionary science.  The sub-genus ‘woman’ is in all senses weaker than Man and should have died out do to natural selection long ago, it is my belief that only through her initial deception, a scene I believe described in Man’s initial loss of the Garden of Paradise; it was not the apple but woman’s lure that caused his loss of Divinity.”


On the behavior of, and possible redemption of women, “Due to woman’s highly evolved parasitic nature towards man, a nature drawn from generations of refined attempts to suck Man’s Divine essence from Him, she has been insidiously worming her way into the human reproductive cycle.  It is apparent that, while she should be viewed as a parasite and study should be put into a way of lessening this burden (see appendix:  The case for artificial wombs) I argue that, despite her leeching nature, woman can serve a benefit to man.  It is because Man was created in God’s own image that Man is capable of the human traits of forgiveness and compassion.  It is through the following of God’s divine plan, of resuming the natural order for Man to administer down to woman that she may be redeemed.”


Spencer’s treatise continues, inexorably, towards its logical conclusion:  “In fact, I find it wholly appropriate that, given woman’s crimes against man [Mainly, her specific parasitic nature on man’s biological development, and her unequivocal plot to leech God’s essence from man] despite all of these horrible transgressions against man, in fact, due to them, man should, no must act to tame and bend woman to His purpose.  If humans are to suffer the presence of and be forced to lose valuable resources to women, despite the divine plan of Man, who was created in God’s own image, to be by right the sovereign masters of this planet, it should be that man employs woman as a resource, to gain a return on the forced divestment of energy and resources that these parasites have so greedily demanded.”


At this point Spencer’s treatise digresses into personal accounts and testimonies as to the nature of woman before returning to biological evidence Spencer has thoroughly documented which confirms the fact that the X chromosome is in fact a detriment to the human condition, and that the insidious nature of woman arises from her inability to experience True divine presence.


To paraphrase Spencer:  It is the Y chromosome only that merits the condition of humanity and divinity.  The parasitic interaction that woman has visited upon man, namely her now-needed role in the reproductive cycle of the human species, has inserted the defect of an X chromosome into man’s gene pool.  When initially created, Man was perfect and possessed of a perfect YY chromosome scheme.


If man were to be able to ‘breed’ woman out of the gene pool He would arise again into the full image that God himself intended.  “The basis for life, in its purest form, springs from the loins of God, from a Cock,” Spencer essays.  “Women are capable of reflecting some of God’s virtues, but the Majesty of God is such that a mirror is needed to act as an intermediary, it is here that Man’s role was defined.  From God to Man, from Man to woman, this is the natural order.”


“In order to undo the damage they have wrought we should turn their own parasitic natures against them.  They crave Man’s Divinity, his Divine Essence, his ejaculate, but they use it for their own corrupt purposes.  I have found a biological path that will set things right between men and woman, provided that it is followed by enough of the world’s gene pool to make the shift back to the Divine Order carry:


“Woman should be placed on her knees before man, she will crave his Seed, and try to lure him with her vagina, man should not give in to this perverse temptation but instead firmly seize the parasite and administer to it in a Godlike manner:  He should grip the parasite’s head and thrust his Divine Member into its seat of being, its head.  There he will wash away the impurities and cleanse woman so that she can be pushed down, through the use of the Divine Essence, flowing forth from the Seat of  Power, the Divine Font, in Man’s Loins, to mold woman, over time, into what God intended.”


It should be noted that while the Doctor does not personally consider the vagina a worthy vessel for his seed and has been experimenting with surrogate wombs and artificial canals.  His research into bypassing the vagina in human reproduction, or the ‘Spencer Conundrum’ as he has termed the human need of woman in the reproductive cycle, has yet to receive much credence in the Cherish Medical Community.  Spencer himself is a strong advocate for oral congress as the ‘only truly proper way of presenting a woman with the nourishment of life (the divine essence of the Y chromosome in semen, which Spencer also posits might serve as a curative for woman’s defective condition, but only when administered orally so that it might penetrate and infuse the whole of her being rather than allowing her to continue to subvert Man’s natural reproductive cycle with her seductive ‘false’ congress.  “Woman’s lure should be shunted, it is a highly developed subversion of the natural order that God intended.  Man was created divine and capable of spreading God’s love to all of creation.  Through her actions woman has condemned herself beyond God’s grace and the only way she may be redeemed is through ‘corrective’ congress with Man’s Font.”  He adds, “Use force if you must, it is for the good of humanity.”


“Sadly”, Dr. Spencer concludes, “for now the ability to cure woman of her defect is beyond medical science and instead we must plod on with the burden of the existence of woman and her incurable desire to establish herself as the equal of man through theft, rather than through the natural acceptance of her place beneath man, receiving God’s gift through Man, rather than trying to go around him.”  He continues, “It is also woman’s desire to bring man down to her level, watering Him down to the point of her own defective self.”


“Indeed,” Spencer finishes, “it is my belief that, left to her own devices, woman would plot to overthrow the dominion of man and establish an acceptance of Feminism.  She would erase the truth of our pasts, of woman’s sub human status and inability to receive grace directly from God without the assistance of Man through His generous gift of the Seed of Divinity, which flows freely from Man’s loins as sure as the gift of life itself.”  Spencer ends gravely, “Woman would surely seek to cover-up her deceit and flaws, replacing history records with her own Feminist account, erasing the truth of the devious sub-human nature of woman and attempting to re-accomplish her parasitic goal she has since the very beginning, in envy of Man, jealous of God’s favor towards Him.  She seeks to subvert Man, knowing that since she can never achieve divinity without Man’s aid, in her pride she seeks to humble Him to her own level, through the use of her vagina to capture and subvert Man’s seed.  In the very beginning it was God’s wish that Man be established in His own image, but now, thanks to the childish nature of woman, she has trapped man, refusing to accept God’s will that she be on her knees before Man, receiving God’s divine gift only after it has been passed through the body of Man.  It is woman’s folly that she believes that she is Man’s equal, for if she were ever to succeed in reducing Man to her status, of eliminating the divine power of Man’s cock, she would doom us all.  The Grace of God is too powerful of a gift for woman to receive without the sacrament having first passed through the body of Man and having been reduced as He absorbs it into Himself.  This is the truth of Man’s biological history, that only he, a true human, can properly receive and process God’s grace.  A woman may receive a taste of God’s gift if, and only if, she is in the proper state, kneeling before man and receiving the sacrament through the gift of semen into her oral cavity.  The digestion of God’s Gift aids in the cleansing of woman’s hurtful nature.  Repeated and prolonged exposure to this treatment is the only way to bring the natural Order back, to restore God’s Divine plan.”




It continues on in this way, and Alex considers it fascinating yet rather trite on the one hand, he doesn’t buy into the whole “Back in the beginning of time thing’” that Spencer was so hung up on.  He sees woman as a piece of meat, a fucktoy, and only goes in for the dogmatic ‘Homo Femalis’ stuff when it serves his needs, such as when he is feeling particularly cruel or full-of-himself (which was often enough to make Spencer happy with his friend’s use of his ‘scientific proof’ of woman’s inferiority’)


Argyle, however, has taken a real liking to Spencer’s theories, and has added his own thoughts to the discussion.



Argyle adds, after pondering the current mental state of women:

“It is this envy, human envy, that makes woman so dangerous to man.  Psychologists might call it Penis envy, but it is that deep seated truth that woman know, that the cock is a surrogate to God, that it is the resting place of His gift.  That woman was never destined to achieve enlightenment, to receive a soul, except through the repeated exposure orally to Man’s form of God’s gift.  She refuses to accept that she is a subspecies in comparison to man, it is her intellect that blinds her to this truth, an intellect that makes her blind and envious of man’s position close to God.  It is this damned intellect that causes her to act with such ruthless intent to make man dependent upon her.  Consider the act of coitus, in which a woman coaxes a man’s essence from him, a devious admission of her true nature, woman will act with venomous speed to extract this divine nectar from a man.  At this point she is independent of man, not needing him to complete the reproduction.  It is this marring of the true cycle, this inter-species breeding that has caused man to fall from God’s favor.  If ever science accomplishes the re-establishment of the YY human then man will return to paradise, and will reproduce immaculately, as God initially directed.”



A shortcut

To return again from our digression, and in the interests of expediency:  Alex fucked with Ashley’s mind, introducing her to her new companion of alternating current, initiated her into her service of door minder, and assured Spencer that his employee would not come to much harm.  Spencer meanwhile, since this was left hanging, was saying that the side benefit of working for him was that his employees were given the best medical treatment plan in town, and that they could expect long, healthy lives in his service (what else did I miss…)


Oh ok, the punchline, Spencer had said “How could we possibly replace her, or, think of how hard it would be to replace her,” in order to lighten Alex’s angry mood, to which, with well-practiced ease at this inside joke Streuth replied:


“I know, we’d have to go through all the trouble of filling out a requisition form!”  They both laughed at the irony of considering this minor trouble to be more worrisome than the girl’s life (A truly gifted author would make this more readily apparent through innuendo but it is of little import.)


Alex said goodbye walked outside and Spencer finished with the delightfully horrifying and dehumanizing treatments of Argyle’s new dolly.  Oh god look at the time, I should have gotten a new chair hours ago, this one is probably having trouble supporting my weight.  Let me just stand up, let her move around, see if she has suffered any permanent damage from supporting me for all these hours, stretch, and call down to main processing [minor interruption while Streuth gets up, inspects his female chair, stretches, and then calls down to main processing for a new chair…] ahhhh, that’s more like it, now where was I?



Chapter 2, Melissa 2.0


Argyle ran his hands lovingly over Dolly’s new cooze, its smooth surface happily snugly secured within a permanent and sturdy chastity harness.  He was happy that her vagina had been sealed off permanently from the chance that it might ever be used to hurt man again.


“I’m so happy that Melissa and I have finally gotten married, but I wanted it to be a proper ceremony and I knew that Dr. Spencer was the right perfect to ensure that the two of us could be together in the proper way.  I’m so happy that he had agreed to let me try the first of the newly developed designs for handling marriage in an enlightened way.”  Ryan gushed over how happy he was to see that his modern wife was so perfectly attired and ready to enjoy a proper life of marriage with her new husband.  When he had proposed to her she had thought that her life would improve from her status as courtesan of Cherish.  She had been milling about the social circles for months, the daughter of an influential man in town who had allowed her to have been home schooled.   The result was a modern travesty, as both the woman’s father and Argyle had both agreed, they were both firm believers in Spencer’s tenets and as such had been eager to ensure a proper arrangement.


 Ryan ran his hands over his wife’s pelvis, knowing that, deep inside, the nefarious organs that this succubus had developed over many long generations of theft were properly secured and in fact doubly negated by the surgical spaying she had received.  He thought of it fondly, remembering the day he had gone into the hospital, he had not been allowed to see his wife, as it was bad luck for him to see her before the wedding, but he had signed the form that allowed Spencer to complete the necessary work on her ovaries, uterus and cervix.  “Don’t worry Mr. Argyle, your wife will be a completely modern woman, it is our hope that you will tend to her well during your marriage, to ensure that she receives as much Divine ministration as you are able to give.”  A few days later Dr. Spencer had married the couple in a modern ceremony:


Argyle had arrived at the Labs again and he was happy to see his bride, finally, so resplendent in her white gown “She is a virgin, of course, Mr. Argyle, but you and I both know that she will remain one for the rest of her life.”  Ryan had nodded, of course he knew that, the lure was to be avoided, he was a devout follower and only wished the best for himself and his wife.  “We have not finished all of the changes, Mr. Argyle, you will need to return in a few weeks time, but you know it is only proper that she be cognizant before we make the final changes to her surrogate womb.”


“Of course Dr. Spencer, and I just want to say what an honor it is that you are here to join us, I am a strong follower in your principles and I want this marriage to signify the beginning of a new era.”


“Great, Mr. Argyle, I am sure that you and your wife will be very happy together, shall we begin the ceremony?”


“Please, Dr. Spencer.”  Dr. Spencer said a few words about the nature of woman, more an admonishment than anything else, and Melissa’s ears perked up.  This was strange, here she was expecting a more natural Cherish wedding, where an exchange of vows was made, but instead it was simply this nutty Doctor guy standing over her and instructing her husband in her anatomy.


“And this,” Dr. Spencer said, “is her lure…”  Bound as she was Melissa could not resist the men’s inspection as they shoved her onto her back and spread her legs.  “You may now secure the bride.”


Melissa screamed as her husband strapped the non-removable heavy-duty chastity device onto her mound, she had heard of this, this new type of wedding, her father had been going on and on about it and how much good it would do if all weddings followed this example.  She had thought it crazy and was happy to be out of the house, away from the man who espoused such ludicrous things about women…  She had certainly never schemed to sap men’s strength, indeed, she knew that they were the lords and that she would be lucky if she kept all of her limbs…  She had thought that she had finally found a way to escape a horrible fate, but, alas, she had gambled wrongly.  Mewling and balling Melissa suffered knowing full-well what was coming next but venting herself anyway.


“No, no, please, I’ll be good, I’ll only take it in the mouth, I understand now, you guys are those weird oral freaks, I understand, I’ll be good, take it off please!’


“Lies!” Spencer shouted, “Heresy!  See how the evil in her body even now calls to you to accept her lure, you must silence her, complete the ceremony!”


Ryan smiled down at her, admiring her pleasant lips and juicy looking mouth, he looked longingly inside of it as she screamed and shouted.  With a look akin to lust he reached down and sat atop her heaving chest.  He took out the white gag which signified mastery over and ownership of his new bride’s receptacle.  She would be accepting His and only His effusions, she would be learning His teachings, she would reach divinity through His gift, and His alone.


Melissa’s mewlings became quieter and quieter as Ryan painstakingly secured the powerfully symbolic gag.  It was white to match her virginal cloth, and as he finished latching it onto her face Dr. Spencer reached down to sanctify their union.  He blessed her orifice, in effect re-virginizing her for Ryan, who looked up and thanked him.  Spencer handed him a small object which Ryan nodded when accepting and then reached down to affix to the outside of his new wife’s gag.


In stenciled red letters the sticker he slapped onto the outside of her gag read ‘Just Married.’




Remembering their wedding day Ryan snapped back to the present.  He smiled at the gagged face that met him, the gag wasn’t the same one surely, this was Melissa 2.0, his wife after completing Dr. Spencer’s obedience package.  He had made sure that her lure could not harm any man but she still needed to be positioned to receive his missals.  It was a happy thing that Ryan had done, by marrying Melissa he espoused his belief that she could be redeemed, and took upon himself the happy burden of granting her the sacrament which would, with a little work, set her on the right path.


Ryan unsealed the gag and gazed with wonder at his wife’s new orifice, the point through which he would be affecting true congress with his wife.  Today was the start of their honeymoon, after all, and he should start to get to know her better:


Ryan stuck two fingers into Dolly’s mouth and compared the two, they both had ample amounts of goo running down their lengths.  Aside from the fact that her oral entrance resided much closer to her eyes (meaning that she could get better acquainted with the visual intimacies of Argyle’s cock and balls) there was very little difference between it and her now sealed lure.  The oral cavity had been enhanced beyond the standard ‘down into the throat’ opening that most men in Cherish are accustomed to.  Melissa 2.0 (as Argyle lovingly referred to her) came with a much more cavernous head, in fact, all of that superfluous space that had occupied the top portion, which had housed her intellect (as Argyle had so astutely appraised, the seat of her jealousy and envy) had been ‘squeezed a bit’ “We reduced her brain size by about 20%,” Alex said glowingly, knowing that it had been quite a feat for the good Doctor, eliminating about 44 points (from 120 to 76) of the bitch’s IQ in the process.


Ryan moved his finger around the inside of her mouth, admiring the way that it copiously salivated in response to the intrusion, the auto-arousal program providing more lubrication for any visitors to the inside of her head.  “Oh wow, this is great Alex,” Ryan said as he plunged his hand in further to her mouth.  “There’s a lot more space here, if Melissa was a cock apartment up here before Lissa 2.0, she has definitely a lot more relaxing room now.”


Alex patted her on the head and grinned at Ryan, “Its just a little gift the Doctor and I put together, to congratulate you and your wife,” he patted Melissa 2.0 on the head again, “and to get you started off to a great honeymoon.  Here let me show you,” Alex took out a blueprint detailing the new insides of Mrs. Argyle’s face.  “Please, take the guided tour.”


Ryan didn’t need to be asked twice, he whipped his pants off and put his cock up next to his wife’s newly pumped-up lips.  He put his cockhead up to the entrance to her mouth and felt the slight resistance that the slightly parted lips gave, it was a great friction as he slowly pushed his cock into the channel.  “And that can be tightened or loosened,” Alex added, indicating the woman’s nostrils.  “Just depress her right nostril to inflate and her left to deflate.  As she breathes, some of the air, as it is pressurized on its return trip from her lungs, is stored into special packs that can be routed into the rubber lining that her inner face is coated with.  For a more natural feel you can deflate this sac all the way, you’ll be rubbing up practically directly with her skin and will get the roughest ride.  For a smoother congress you can simply inflate her all the way up.  Don’t worry about inflating too much, she’s calibrated to only store as much air as her tubing can support.  So the worst that you can do if you bump into her nose is to change the pressure on your member.  Also, and this is standard but I’ll mention it anyway, her breathing is of course supplemented by tracheal intake, so, while she’ll be uncomfortable and will still give that cock warming performance of choking and try to push you off of her once you’re all the way into your new home, she’ll still be able to breathe.”  Alex said this last part with particular relish, it was one of his favorite innovations.  “While nothing can totally supplant that actual feeling of actually suffocating your toy during oral congress, with a ‘Streuth Trak’ tracheal breathing supplement you’ll come awfully close, without all that messy aftercare that oxygen deprivation can bring.”


Ryan looked at the blueprint and listened to Alex’s explanation of Melissa’s new features.  He grabbed the side of her head, having eschewed the ‘joystick antlers’ that some oral toys featured (giving a man a solidly attached set of handlebars to hold onto that sprang out perpendicular from the unit’s head and made it much easier to ‘maintain proper seating’ during the ride) in favor of a more placid and less ostentatious aesthetic.  He had made Streuth adhere to the Dolly appearance since, “After all, this is my wife, man, I wouldn’t want her to appear lude, or grotesque.”


There is hardly anything grotesque about modifying the inside of the woman’s head to further accommodate a visiting cock, however, any man of Cherish would agree, in fact, it could be said, it rather made the woman more attractive.  It was also appropriate to the intended demure stature of the woman that, since as Argyle had put it, he did not want her to wantonly display her charms, her huge lips served to disguise the inviting maw that her mouth and face now consisted of.  If the Doctor were to cut the woman’s lips off, as detestable of a practice as a man could find, in Alex’s opinion, but such ‘oral circumcisions’ were performed, Melissa 2.0’s face would consist of a set of dull eyes, a pert button-nose, and a huge maw whose on-view insides could be seen to pulse and contract occasionally (a set of muscle stimulants caused this contraction, known as the ‘lover’s kiss,’ involuntarily and at random intervals, it was as though the woman’s inner mouth and new head-throat were trying to swallow, mimicking the clutching character of the woman’s true throat (referred to, in Streuth’s diagram as ‘access to stomach.)


Guiding his cock further up into his dumb wife’s head Mr. Argyle relished the tour Streuth was giving.  “And here you should be able to feel her G-spot,” Streuth said, as Argyle squinted his eyes as he felt around with his cock.  “I’m sorry, my mistake,” Streuth said, in response to Ryan’s quizzical look, “Not there, wrong hole, I get them confused so easily.”


“Oh that’s alright mate,” Ryan said, “However, I do seem to have found something here,” he had pushed past the engorged uvula, referred to on the diagram as the ‘lover’s lick’ and had ventured past into uncharted territory.  His cock was now being massaged by the lovely new home renovations Dr. Spencer had made inside of Mrs. Argyle’s previously unrealized potential of her facial cavities.  The diagram, however, pointed out the salient characteristics to a curious Mr. Argyle.


Ahh, that, well, I really ought to leave the two of you alone now.  The diagram is here but I don’t want to intrude, you’ve reached one of your wife’s most private places, and this time is best spent in privacy, between a man and his wife, so, read on about the fascinating secrets and mysteries that await you, if you’ve ever wondered what goes on inside of the mind of a woman, it is all laid out here.”  Alex smiled crisply, handed the map of Mrs. Argyle’s head to Mr. Argyle and then politely walked out.



Chapter 5, Inside Mrs. Argyle’s head


Hmmmm,” thought Ryan, looking at the map, he then whispered to his beau “You know, I have often wondered what goes on inside of that head of yours honey.”  Mrs. Argyle issued forth a small gasp of some sort, nothing that was anything nearing intelligible.


“I’m sorry honey; you’ll have to speak louder.”  Mr. Argyle looked down at the plans in front of him, he held on tightly to his wife’s head and proceeded to carefully explore every nook and cranny.  He now pressed forward into a little spot, a little dip, marked on the plans as ‘woman’s purse’ “I wonder what you keep in here honey?” Ryan said aloud.  He probed it with his cock and found it rather interesting, some of his precum brushed off and landed in it.  “Just like a woman,” he said aloud, “Always wanting me to put more in.”  He probed around some more before pressing on.  Truth be told he was getting rather anxious to explore the full depth of his wife’s mind but he exercised a great amount of self control and restraint, knowing that this was special, that this was their first time as a married couple, and that it should be savored.


Coming up into a nice tight channel Ryan heard his wife gurgle and begin to struggle a little as her air supply was cut off up top.  Ahh,” her husband noted, looking down at the blueprint to see the words “G-spot” written on it.  “So,” he thought, Streuth had not been wrong after all, he could hear his wife gurgle and gasp and gulp for air, he nodded his head at the appropriate name.


“Let’s plunge on, 2.0,” Ryan said, using his new pet name for his wife.  He gripped her head tightly, knowing that his wife would be fine, and not wanting her to ruin her wedding night.  In the struggle he inadvertently shoved right up past the point on the chart marked “Lover’s leap.”  He was having a real tight time now up in her new head-throat.


Ahhhh,” Ryan said, “Something’s in the way…”  Of course, he realized, THIS IS HER FIRST TIME!  Grinning to himself, he pushed hard and broke through his wife’s hymen.  He felt the detritus break off around his cock and he heard his wife scream, her struggles harsh and insistent.  He continued to push, knowing that he could break through, that it was his right to claim it.


In the struggle Ryan stopped looking at the blueprints.  He would have noticed the part way up at the top, noting that during the surgery some new walls had been constructed in order to house her squeezed brain, and that should these be damaged his wife risked loss of upper brain function and intelligence.  Indeed, her brain fluid might begin to leak, and small pieces of her gray matter might simply slip out.  A secondary wall had been built to help contain this problem, if it arose, for most men would have sufficient space in the new home that had been supplied.  “But for some men, for those extraordinarily endowed, even this might not suffice.  In that case the parts of the brain deemed most unnecessary have been positioned to escape first.  The secondary wall will contain all of the most necessary parts of a woman’s brain, those that enable simple motor function and the ability to follow simple orders and maintain life functions.  We repeat, do not attempt to push past the artificial wall since in so doing your wife will be reduced in her ability to think, cogitate, and develop ideas and speech.”


Ryan continued on oblivious to the instructions, the perfect suction and degree of similarity to his wife’s vagina was so complete that he had all but forgotten that he was plumbing the depths of her cranial capacities.  “Oh honey, you’re a virgin!”  He cried out, thrusting and bucking madly at the entrance to his wife’s last ability to function as a person.  She was thrashing wildly now, the pain in her head unbearable, at first she hadn’t really noticed when her husband had begun his intrusion into her oral charms.  It had felt like a kiss to her, her lips had registered the affection while her eyes studied the object of his amorous advances.  She was so accustomed to seeing his cock in front of her face that she had begun to think of it as their normal series of exchange.  In her reduced mental capacities after Spencer had renovated her head she didn’t think too much about the fact that the kiss she was receiving from her husband was a rather long and snaky one.  She just went with the flow and returned his sweet kiss by puckering up and sucking on his ‘tongue’.


In fact it was only when he started into her airways that she started to struggle, he had pushed his tongue too far in, he was pushing his tongue down her throat, and it was making her gag.  She tried to push him away, in the beginning she was demure and coquettish, she thought to herself “Silly husband, I can’t breathe silly, let me take a breath, then we can kiss some more.”  But she couldn’t breathe, well just a little bit, so she began to get a little more alarmed.  She was still able to bring in air but she felt like it was through a straw, she was feeling faint, and her husband continued to shove his long and thick tongue further into her ‘throat’.  She was so dumb that when he began to tickle her purse, which caused her a great amount of pleasure, she momentarily forgot her troubles and it was only when he pushed past ‘lover’s leap’ that she focused on the intrusion again “My, my head feels so stuffy” she had interjected to herself before remembering to try to push him off of her.  In her stupidity, while he was face fucking her, she tried to blow her nose as she pushed him off.  She was under the idiotic impression that if she cleared her nose that would ease the problem.  Ryan had found this a charming attempt to communicate with him while he explored his wife’s head some more.  “What else have you got to say?” he wondered while she was doing this.  “Oh, what’s that you’re hiding over there?”  And then he had gone for the ‘prize.’  “Oh honey, you’re a virgin!” he cried.


With a sharp spike of pain, an immense pressure in her head coming to a peak, Mrs. Argyle found herself the proud new owner of a broken head hymen, a throbbing, insistent, new appendage that her husband was prowling around with in the deep recesses of her brain, and a leaky brain.  The secondary wall fell, but her previously slightly self-formulated thoughts began to slip away from her.  She found her ability to think sharply impeded, like a large blockage was in the way.  Her husband pressed a little more inwards into her with his cock and she was unable to think at all.  He withdrew a little and she found the smallest thoughts possible, like, “Duh, its warm,” or “Mmm, feels good.”  Her leaking brain matter containing her ability to cogitate on her own had mostly worn away under her new husband’s explorative embrace of her newly established cock residence inside of her head.  She was able to form only very simple thoughts now, mostly to do with direct stimulus and commands that were given her.  “Honey, I want to stay like this with you forever.  When we were married we made a vow to each other, and I, right now, am yours, to have and to hold,” which her husband said down to her was met with a tiny “Huh?” from inside her brain.


Ryan’s massive cock pressed a little into her secondary wall and all thought suddenly stopped.  She was unable to think at all when he applied pressure to her secondary wall.  His cocktip had basically reached maximum penetration, his full nine inches was inside of her and he had reached a sort of heavenly nirvana.  His full cock length was bathed in the warmth and loving comfort provided him by his supportive wife, for what wife would not be considered supportive that, when her husband relaxed, still had enough mass, helped, in part, by her bubble butt and massive chest, to let her husband take all the weight off of himself.


“Oh this is soo nice, honey,” Ryan said, now completely at rest and with no pressures or tension in his body at all.  He relaxed, his balls releasing their pent-up load, looking down faintly at the map of his wife’s brain he could see that the space between something called the primary wall and secondary wall, penciled in, in Streuth’s own shaky handwriting, as if in response to a sudden realization, read, “Marriage Bed.”  It seemed like the perfect way to a successful marriage.


His cocktip spurted violently, a massive influx of hot jism spurting into a very small hole in the secondary wall, almost perfectly level with the final resting point of his urethral opening.  The white substance pervaded Melissa’s head, washing the outsides of her brain in its sticky being as the inside of Mrs. Argyle’s head got a nice, warm brainwashing of her husband’s jism.  After flowing all over her sanctum sanctorum the white liquid slowly seeped back out of her mind.  Some of it remained behind, as the relaxed husband it had allowed a little bit of pressure to come off of her secondary wall, trapping the remaining sperm.


This allowed enough of a sense of thought and capacity for synapse firing to happen that Mrs. Argyle was capable of only the most rudimentary connections in her mind.  As the sperm trapsed back down from the Marriage Bed, down past Lover’s Leap, and filling the Woman’s Purse a warm glow filled Mrs. Argyle’s being.  A great sense of pleasure and contentment filled her as her purse was filled.  The remaining sperm washed out down her throat and fell down her ‘access to stomach’ where it was slowly digested.


“I’m just going to rest here for awhile honey,” Ryan said.  Melissa 2.0, a dummi-dolly, enjoyed the feelings in her head and made the connection of having it stuffed and her purse filled with having great pleasure:  She was very happy with her purse filled, and, as he gently dozed off, she felt so warm and provided for.  She wanted to just enjoy this embrace forever, her and her husband deep in their Marriage Bed.  She decided, over the course of the next few hours, as her husband dosed and occasionally spurted a new coating into her brain cavity, which might eventually tickle her purse, that this was what life was all about.  This was where she wanted to be, with her husband in their Marriage Bed.  Mr. Argyle would be pleasantly surprised, upon awakening, to find a very docile, dumb, big-titted, cushiony, perfectly dolled-up wife who would take well to simple commands, look nice at social functions, not give anyone too much lip (unless they considered ‘Duh’ to be too much lip, or they considered her huge, fulsome lips too be too much lip) and welcomed her husband’s kisses with increasing frequency.





“I’ve got to make a trip to the head,” Ryan said loudly to Alex, the two of them were relaxing several weeks later and watching some TV.


“Oh,” Alex said, “Want me to pause it?  Its on Tivo, its no problem.”


“Oh no, no, its fine, I’ll just wait.”


“If you need to go, you should go,” Alex said, “It can hurt your kidneys if you wait too long.”  The two of them shared a moment of silence before Alex continued, “So how’s your marriage working out, anyway?”


“Oh, its great, its great!” Ryan exclaimed, “My wife and I are really getting along great, I wasn’t sure in the beginning, you know, because she was such a talker and we didn’t really have much in common but we share so much now that we’re married!’


“That’s great to hear,” Alex said, happy for his friend, and good customer.


“Oh look, here she comes now.”  Ryan smiled knowingly; he had called for his wife and had been waiting for her to show up.  Unbeknownst to Alex, Ryan had simplified his life by getting his wife one of those upgrades to her hearing where she could hear dog whistles and he had trained her to follow the simple commands that she knew, such as “Come,” “Sit,” Follow,” “Lay Down,” and “Sit Up” into short or long blasts on the whistle he kept around his neck.  Communicating with his wife had never been easier.


“Look mate,” Alex said, “If you need to go, I’d be happy to wait.”


“Really its no problem, I mean,” Ryan paused.  His wife had crawled up next to him, a slightly blank look in her eyes, the rest of it a mask of obedience and a huge longing, her whole demeanor bespoke a craving, a deep need that needed to be filled.  He blew the three short notes that meant “Open,” as he thought of it, or, as he had taught her “I love you.”


Her eyes looked up at him, adoringly as she opened her mouth and expertly expressed her love by unzipping his pants (not an easy task with such cumbersome and rotund lips, but she had had lots of practice) and quickly taking him deep into her head.


“The best part about Marriage,” Ryan said slyly to Streuth, as the other looked on appreciatively, “Is that this baby is happy whether I fill her up with premium or unleaded.”  Alex thought about it for a second, and then laughed loudly at his friends subtle jest.


Deep inside of Melissa’s head, her husband’s large member speared up to her brain cavity and unleashed its torrent of acrid urine into her privatemost sanctum.  This gradual wearing away of her gray matter was of no concern to Melissa 2.0, who knew that, once the searing pain went away, and it settled down to just the brainbath of urine, a milder and simpler pain that she had learned to deal with, her purse would, oh wonder of wonders, fill up, and besides, when her husband filled her, her thoughts stopped.  She would bask in the mildly euphoric sensation, enjoying the sensation of being filled, which, pavlovianly enough, she had begun to enjoy just as much.  The other nice thing about the urine bath her brain received was that it was tingly enough to clean off most of the other visitor that propped up occasionally, whenever her loving husband didn’t need to kiss her but needed to sit on her instead.  She didn’t quite understand why he needed to express himself in this manner but she listened very quietly since she didn’t want to disturb the privacy of what was occurring deep inside of her, starting at her mouth, where, she cringed since it tasted so foul, but couldn’t manage enough of a thought to do anything other than continue to obey the last command she was given.


She swallowed all that she was given, and it filled her purse, the fact that it left her brain a little dirtier and her head a little less filled didn’t bother her too much, she was happy so long as her husband filled her up.


“That’s my good girl,” Ryan said down at her, “Got to get you nice and full.”  His cock hardened and he coated her mind with his white wash, her mind went blank and she relaxed into his embrace.


“What about the wear over time?”  Alex asked Ryan.  “Aren’t you concerned about it?  I mean, she’s sure to be losing some grey matter each time you two share some time…”  Alex blushed, it was so private, he felt embarrassed for prying.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t inquire about what a married couple does in their Marriage Bed.”


Ryan nodded, blissfully aware that his throbbing member was even at that moment occupying that most intimate of lovers’ spaces, the Marriage Bed, and he relaxed, leaning forward to rest on his wife’s massive chest, conscious of her support, happy to have such a willing and obedient partner in their perfect marriage.




As for Melissa, she would eventually have to be replaced, perhaps with a new wife with a similar name, or even the same name.  Their couplings would take a wear on her pretty little head and she would eventually die of ‘natural causes.’  “Brain drain,” Dr. Spencer would say, “seems sometimes a man’s cock is simply too large and its too much for a good wife to fathom.”  Ryan would take her passing hard, which Alex found cute, in fact, it was interesting to Alex that Mr. Argyle hadn’t yet taken to calling them simply ‘Head 1,’ ‘Head 2,’ but then again, and Alex smiled and remembered one of the things that had endeared him to Mr. Argyle in the first place:  He was rather old-fashioned when it came to women.











by Alex Streuth


Literary notes:  In my humble opinion this is a masterful (although perhaps somewhat disjointed) foray into extreme degradation (I try) and oral, bimbo, dumb woman fetish.  There are many who would object to the content of this story, and I apologize to them because I know that what they object to is that the woman is no longer able to understand her predicament.  I can only defend myself by pointing to other of my stories where I have shown more appreciation of a woman’s mind, and left it intact so that she can appreciate her situation.  Also I believe some readers would prefer a little more coddling and a little more cruelty, and so this was attempted (to some degree) in this story.


Oh, and as a continuity aside, this story takes place (and was written) before ‘Ally.’  This story mars the beginning of Argyle’s interest in Dr. Spencer’s surgery.


This story was not posted earlier because I felt that some of the content would be too difficult to ‘get into’ for some of my audience.  It was only after the strongest encouragement from one of my female fans that I decided that I owed it to this story to let it see the light of day.  I hope everyone enjoys.








My influences come from the writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well as fiction from, thundershrk, h.grant and sickman.

After this story was finished, before it was posted, the author happened upon enjoyable similar work being done by Asian artists (I found this stuff after, not before, I wrote this story.)  The links are included here not to give them credit for this story but to give them credit for their own great work.  Their work can be found at both and (the latter has a just gorgeous flash piece where a young woman’s mind is put to great use.)


Keywords:  Objectification collagen dolly degradation extreme modifications modified enhanced swallowed choked gagged forced modified injected amputated helpless down into mouth throat slave




Lastly, the author disclaims that outside of the realm of fantasy none of these types of behaviors and/or ideas are healthy much less conscionable.  It is my intention to provide a well-written adult story that allows the reader to indulge in their darker appetites.  Feedback is welcomed, and you may write me at




Reader suggestions are always welcomed and I am sure if you have a specific situation, person, item of clothing, object, body part or interaction etc. that you wish inserted into the busy schedules of the exacting Dr. Spencer and Mr. Streuth please do not hesitate to contact me regarding it.  I will see it I can fit your order into their schedule, or bring it up at the next Cherish Board meeting.  –AS


Please check out Alex Streuth's Stories ( for my hosted collection.


Also, let me just say again that I am indebted to ‘The Mayor of Cherish’ for the use of his setting.  In my stories I am creating all new characters and adding much to the universe of Cherish but I would like to thank The Mayor for letting me continue to set my stories there.