Many Keys, a New Face

, , , , ,

A happy patron returns to an establishment that provides interesting delights.

Clockwork transformation, body manipulation, mind manipulation, masturbation

My little clockwork horny stories are not usually explicitly furry, but his one involves transformin into a brass raccoon


Clockwork transformation, body manipulation, mind manipulation, masturbation

Returning.

It has been a while since you came here. Memories of the last time you stayed.

It felt like a wonderful dream. It always does.

This time won't be different. You will be, of course. There is always something new to it. Something different. Changes for body and mind.

You keep coming back. A change. Pleasure and joy.

Everything set up. You are already sitting. You wait. The attendant will come soon. What kind of games this time? You asked for a surprise.

Then again, it is always a surprise.

The attendant comes. Wearing a porcelain mask.

Perhaps a porcelain face? Could be just a costume. Listening attently.

Is that a faint ticking you hear? Maybe just your imagination. But maybe it is there.

A key. They touch you with it. On your neck. You've had it on your back. On your stomach. On your chest. This time low, on your neck. And it goes in.

And they twist it.

You can feel the change radiating. It is delightful.

Organs.

Flesh.

Bone.

Sinew.

Replacing them with metal. Porcelain. Glass. Gems.

You know they are there. Wheels and cams and sprockets and levers.

Your lungs turn into bellows. Breathing. What games will be played?

But it is not complete. No.

You are still soft in parts. You do not worry. It is part of the process.

The attendant reaches into their pocket. There are other keys.

Other keys.

What is this game?

The attendant presses one, in the base of your spine. It feels wonderful. It is a delight. It goes in. And it twists. And you feel your limbs change. Bones into brass rods. Skin into smooth plating.

All of you changing.

But it is not over. You are still VERY MUCH yourself. There is more changing to come. A third key.

Where will it go?

The attendant produces a box.

A box? This is new.

This is novel.

Theatrically, opening the box. You stare at it.

Ah

This is to be your face.

Triangular. A snout. A mask.

What's this?

Not a fox.

Not a dog.

Ah.

A raccoon's face. Curious.

The attendant places it over your own face.

And waves the third key in front of your eyes.

"Are you ready, dear?" They ask.

And you nod. The last changes are coming.

And they press the key against the mask's forehead.

And then it touches *your* forehead. It goes in. It twists.

And then your thoughts cease.

Stillness.

Your body feels the changes.

But your thoughts have entirely ceased.

The attendant winds you up. In the same order. The key at the bottom of your neck, until the mainspring is taut.

The key at the base of your spine, until it can't turn anymore.

And then they start twisting the one on your forehead.

Your body feels it. You don't.

No reason to make it slow. One twist.

Two.

And then they pull it back. And your mind starts working again.

Wheels and levers and cams and pinions and escapements.

You feel again

You think again. How much of you is in this form?

Plenty. You know. You cogitate

"Ah! Welcome back!" the attendant says.

"Are you ok? You can speak" they ask.

"And your voiceworks start. Your bellows fill. Your voice. Flutelike. You exhale an answer. Yes.

"You will like this, I am sure"

They treat you as a person. Not a toy. You can hear your own workings. Your head ticking. Your bellows filling. You can feel. You raise your hands, you touch your face.

"Oh! Yes! This is a new face, we thought you might enjoy it, if not, we will adjust for future visits"

The attendant produces a mirror. You see yourself. And the noise in your head speeds up. A brass raccoon.

You touch it and delight on the textures. A hinged jaw, fanged. A segmented brass tongue inside. A shiny nose. A mask. Like a bandit's

No eyes. Or if there are, they are behind protective glass lenses. Opaque.

"This is going to be a fun game. I did not expect you to like it this much! Your mind was spinning fast" they said.

"I am going to give you an instruction, and I want you to enjoy it as much as you can"

They grab one of your hands. THe one you were touching your face with.

They direct it to your crotch. Oh.

You are equipped with genitals this time.

"Repeat this motion. And please, enjoy", they say.

They position your fingers, and touch your hand to your genitals.

And they start a rythmic motion. And it feels delightful. Your bellows fill up. And you start moaning.

The attendant makes you rub yourself. Touch yourself. Play with yourself.

And you hear the clockwork inside your head speed up.

"Very good! Yes! You are a good player"

A cycle. Repetitive motion.

And you hear your thinkworks work faster.

And you enjoy it.

And you moan. It is not even intentional. It is automatic. Your body knows. Your body works.

And you love it. And you feel every single motion

And you do not change it. You obey. You keep doing it. Your genitals. Do they feel this good when you are made out of flesh? Is it the same configuration?

It does not matter. All that you feel is joy, pleasure, happiness.

And time starts to feel like it is going longer.

Your thinkworks

they start

slowing

down

your body, your moans

they keep at the same pace. The motion continues. But your mind slows down.

The pleasure feels like it fills all that you are.

It feels like it stretches to eternity

And then it stops. Your mind stops. Your body's movement, the breathing, the moans

They continue. And they cause your mind to start again for a second. Again.

Filled with pleasure.

And then it stops, your thinkworks unmoving.But your body doesn't.

You are not there. But it feels. It continues. The moans. The rubbing.

They continue.

Until they stop.

First the moans. Your bellows inflating and deflating one last time. Your pleasure unvocalized now.

And then, later, your hand. A sticky mess. Your body leaked. It was good, it was pleasurable.

And you stay there for a moment. Watched by the attendant.

Still. Not a stir.

All your springs slack.

All your motion ceased.

And then they approach again.

And insert the key in your head.

And turn. And turn. And turn.

And they let go.

And your mind races. And you process it.

And it spins.

You process everything. All the pleasure. All the stimulation. Everything.

It built up. That was the game. That was the purpose.

Your mind spins. And you are consumed by pleasure.

The mechanism inside your head is noisy. But you do not even mind. Everything that is you in this form is drowning in pleasure.

And it continues.

Until you wind down again.

And then you start to turn back. Little by little. Metal and glass turning into soft flesh. Organs. Sinew. Blood.

You are left panting.

You remember all. Every single touch. Every single caress. Every moment of stillness. The experience of not *being*

of not *being* while your body touched itself.

The attendant takes the mask off.

"We hope that you enjoyed the experience. Please tell us if you would like to repeat it in the future, and any changes you would desire. We are here to serve"