ROYAL REWARD: Catastrophic Crime Spree: Crime Spree Catch-Up 1/2 (Inanimate TF, Various Series)

Case 69-12: Aizawa Tomo

Aizawa Tomo lay on her back in the dark, her body folded in half like a simple piece of paper. 

Trapped, emptied of everything, soiled and crumpled in on herself like a discarded rag, she’d long given up on any hope she’d ever be restored to her former shape, let alone the idea there was anything she could personally do to influence it. For the first few days of her time in this box, she’d screamed and cried and tried to shake herself free of it, but in the end, it had no effect: she was a doll and nothing more, and there was nothing she could do but sit and wait, soaking in her own suffering, wanting to cry yet unable to make even the slightest sound. Time passed like a flow of the thickest treacle, smothering her beneath it.

After the first few weeks, she settled into a dream-like state, lost in her own internal fantasies of escape. Occasionally, someone would move outside: she’d heard footsteps, the sounds of another box being scraped against the floor, but never did anyone come close to her, and so she wasted very little hope on it. Soon, she failed to take notice of these little events entirely.

Finally, just as she’d retreated almost entirely into herself: she heard something that snapped her out of the fog of her dream world. It wasn’t anything too surprising to start: just footsteps, a couple of voices, nothing particularly unusual. But then they grew closer, closer still, and then–

Hands on her box, shifting it. Her heart, not that she still had it, lurched with hope. They were finally going to let her out! 

A knife tore through the tape of her box, spilling light into the darkness again. It was the first Tomo had seen in what must have been months, and it made her want to scream with joy. They were letting her out! 

The lids of the box flew wide. A head appeared overhead, plump-lipped and balding and intolerably smug. “Hah!” he cried. “I knew it! I told you there was one in here somewhere!”

Cloying hands grasped her plastic-skin, making her squeal inside as they wrenched her out of the box and back into reality. Tomo wanted to scream. P-please! Be gentle! 

The first men held her up now, raising her to the sight of an equally gross-looking second. Both wore police officer’s clothes, but neither filled her with any particular amount of confidence. 

“Which end do you want?” asked the second, and Tomo’s hopes popped like a balloon.

“How tight’s her ass?” asked the first.

No. 2 slipped his fingers into the tight plastic tunnel of Tomo’s butt, making her squeal as he explored it. “Pretty tight.”

No. 1 laughed. “I’ll take her ass then.” He started to unzip. 

“Hey, don’t you wanna blow her up first?” 

“Pfft, you think we’ve got time for that? Just hurry up and get your cock in here before anyone starts asking where we are.” 

Tomo found herself spun around like a platter of food at the family dinner, and just like that, she came face to face with a long, veiny cock and hairy pair of balls. W-wait! Please, you can’t–! Please, not again…! Her cries went unheard. Not that either man would have listened to her anyway. 

With a schlup!, No. 2 forced his cock deep into her mouth, its fat girth stretching her plump rubber lips wide around it. In her deflated state, she felt it scrape the back of her eyes and her forehead, leaving her feeling as if it had penetrated her brain. Nnnn~! St-stoo–

With a second schlup!, No. 1’s cock crashed into her anus, striking her with an even more intense bout of pleasure. If Tomo had still been human, she would have thrown back her head and whined in lust, but as it was she had no power to do anything. Nothing more than lie there in their hands and take it their abuse, at any rate.

Over the course of the next ten minutes, One and Two plunged their shafts into the ends of her digestive system as if trying to meet up in the middle, pounding and pounding till the only thing louder than the crumpling of her plastic was their grunts of exertion. Tomo herself wanted to scream, scream and buck–ripple after intense ripple of pleasure rolled through her, crashing together in her gut and exploding in a mind-melting burst. She could barely hold herself together. 

Finally, Two gave a great grunt, and Tomo felt something hot and slimy pouring down her throat. This was followed swiftly by another grunt from One, and something equally hot and sticky flowed into her anus. She wanted to moan in disgust. 

With a pair of wet schlorps, the pair pulled out. “What do you do with her now?” said Two, sounding slightly panicked. “How are we supposed to clean her out?” 

“Why bother?” said One, snatching her out of Two’s grip. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna check up on her any time soon.” With a laugh, he tossed her back into her box. She landed facedown this time, her butt up in the air, such that the semen filling her rectum was free to pour down and through her. 

A moment later, she heard the sound of tape. The light cut out, and with the thud of a kick, her box slid back into its old position. With that, her slow torment resumed, stickier than ever.

Shortly after, Aizawa Tomo stopped thinking.

—

Case 69-16: Mahiro Oyama

Mahiro whined in terror as the police officer grabbed him, wrenching him out of his case and into the terrifyingly open world of the air. N-no! Put me down! Don’t touch me! 

The officer holding him only grinned a little wider, lustful drool spilling out of his broken teeth. “Hehe, you’re gonna make me feel real good, you little cutie.” Giving Mahiro’s breasts a playful poke, he squeezed him tight and with one last furtive glance around, tucked him into his shirt. Mahiro could only scream as he was squished against the man’s sweaty, hairy breast.

When he was finally extracted from this prison of flab, he found himself in a worse one: the cubicle of a restroom. Tucking him under his arm, the officer struggled to unzip his pants. Finally, with a sigh of relief, he dropped his ass to the seat and raised Mahiro to his face, where he fixed him with a broken smile. “What do you think?” he asked, angling him so Mahiro could see his crotch. “Ain’t it the best you’d ever seen?” 

It was four inches long and wide as a coke can, but in Mahiro’s current state, this wasn’t much of a relief. If anything, it was even more terrifying! G-get it away from me! Please! The thought of that fat chode stretching his vagina made him want to thrash in terror. Sadly, the transformation hadn’t left him with much in the way of limbs.

Seemingly satisfied, the officer licked his lips and, grunting like a pig, lowered Mahiro to his shaft. As the man’s tip nuzzled his crotch, Mahiro’s pleas for mercy turned into a high-pitched whine of terror. No! No! Please, no! Take it away! Take it away! Take it–! 

Schlup! Like a spear, the fat phallus drove into him, stretching his poor plastic pussy so wide Mahiro was certain it would tear. A kind of burning pleasure, so intense it was all but indistinguishable from pain, shot through him, threatening to rip his mind to pieces. His body squeaked. He moaned. And without the slightest shred of mercy, the officer tightened his grip and started to pump, digging his thumb deep into Mahiro’s boobs as he did so. Internally, Mahiro lost his mind to lust.

Lying back, one arm rested on the tank of the toilet, the officer pumped and pumped, driving his cock deep into Mahiro’s cunt, so deep it threatened to pop out of Mahiro’s mouth outright. Again and again, he raised him and he dropped him, slamming Mahiro’s plump thighs into his crotch and making his entire body ripple with the force of the impact. Externally, Mahiro squeaked; internally, Mahiro whined. Every inch of his body felt as if it were being stretched to its breaking point. P-Please…! 

“Nnn~!” Panting hard now, his great jowls bouncing with the motion of his arm, the officer closed his eyes and leaned back, raising his head to the ceiling, as if expecting someone up there to be looking down in approval. Meanwhile, he picked up the pace, slamming Mahiro onto his cock harder and harder and harder, and even bucking his hips a little, as if to maximize the penetration. Soon, Mahiro felt as if he were being fucked in the brain. 

Nnnn~! Nnnnngh~! Ah! Ah! Oh…! P-p-please… Nnnn~! Nnnnngh! I can’t take it anymore! Please, stooop! 

The officer pounded harder and harder, and with each thrust, his cock felt a little thicker in Mahiro’s cunt. 

Finally, the officer could take it no more. With one last pump and a great gasp of exertion, he came: semen filled Mahiro’s pussy in a seemingly endless amount, flowing and flowing, spreading rapidly through him, all the way from sex to head and still coming, till his body began to bulge with the strain. His boobs rose, pumped full. His head slipped back, forced high by the warping of his plastic. And with every inch he stretched, the pleasure-pain tormenting him grew that little bit worse, till he was certain his mind would pop from the strain. 

In the end, it was his body which gave out first:

With a surprisingly loud pop, Mahiro exploded, splattering the walls of the cubicle with chunks of cum-sticky plastic and leaving only the lower half of his torso still wrapped around the man’s cock.

The effect on his mind was no less dramatic: in an instant, ecstasy ripped through him, tearing his thoughts to shreds and leaving only a fractured husk with barely a shred of self left to it. Sentience spread across the walls of the cubicle, Mahiro barely even remembered who he was, let alone what was happening to him.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Sweaty and panicked, the officer hurriedly scraped Mahiro’s scraps from the walls. For a few seconds, he held them in his hands, looking for a solution, and finally his eyes settled on the porcelain bowl before him. 

Mahiro, or what was left of him, could only moan in silent defeat as he landed in the water, too broken even to be disgusted. Lying there in a hundred pieces, he could only look up and moan as the officer’s face appeared above.

“Sorry,” said the man. “But it’s not like I can take you back anyway, is it?” With a shrug, he raised a hand. 

Mahiro heard the familiar sound of a flush. The world began to spin, slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed, and just like that, he was shooting down, down, down into–

The last thing he thought, before he disappeared into the darkness, was how much he hated toilets.

—

Case 69-17: Tohru

The chair squeaked as Constable Mitochondria stood, leaning forward as he rose in order to turn off his monitor. “Alright, that’s enough for today,” he said, stretching. “God, I can’t wait to get home and rest.”

He turned to go. At the last second, however, just as he was about to reach the door, he turned back, his eyes swiveled to her. “Oh,” he said, sounding a little guilty. “Er, see you tomorrow, Tohru.” 

On his desk, Tohru squirmed in the plastic prison of her body, wishing she could spread her claws and throw herself at him. Come back! she wanted to scream. Don’t you dare leave me…! 

As Mitochondria marched away, flicking off the lights on the way out, however, her demands he return took on a slightly different tone: Please! Come back! Please, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me in the dark again! 

Mitochondria’s footsteps receded down the corridor. In her head, Tohru practically wept.

As her last hope of comfort disappear, Tohru broke into a long whine of terror. She couldn’t do it! She couldn’t spend another night trapped in this tight plastic prison! Not alone! Not in the dark! Please! Come back! Take me with you…! Even the erogenous tickle of Mitochondria’s fingers would have been better than being left alone. 

In the distance: footsteps. 

Tohru’s heart leapt in hope. He was coming back! He was coming back for her…! 

Instead of Mitochondria, however, the figure who stepped into the room was someone she didn’t know the name of. She recognized them as one of the station’s other officers, but that was it–they were little better than a stranger to her. 

Even as her heart sank in renewed despair, the figure turned their eyes to her. Striding forward, the young man sized her up, looked guiltily left and right, and finally reached out and grabbed her. Tohru screamed as the pleasure of his touch shot through her–then screamed again as he hauled her into the air, bringing her so close to his face she could have counted his pimples.

For a minute or two, he held her there, breathing hard. His fingers, twitching, started to roam, dancing over her form, and it wasn’t long before one of them caught her breasts, making her squeal as it dug into them. Nnn~! H-hey! D-don’t touch me like that!

Swallowing, the young man took one last look around him and tossed her straight into his bag. Landing on something soft, Tohru had only an instant to look up before he zipped it shut and cast her into the darkness. 

*

For what felt like an hour, she lay there in the void, unable to see anything. If she weren’t already inanimate, she would have been frozen in terror. What’s happening?! Where is he taking me?! She could tell he was on the move–the bag kept bouncing, jostling her about inside it, and she could hear the familiar sounds of traffic outside. 

Finally, a jiggling bell, followed by the crash of a door closing. Her captor came to a step. “Hey, Hiro,” he called. “Hiro, I got her.” 

For several seconds, there was silence. At last, Tohru heard the growing sound of rushing feet, and: “You got her?! You actually got her?!” 

With a zipping sound, light sliced into Tohru’s dark prison. An instant later, she found herself snatched out of it. A hand tight around her, she flew through the air, struggling to perceive the world around her: the only thing she could make out were the hundreds upon hundreds of dolls. 

She landed in the clammiest pair of hands she’d ever had the misfortune of touching. “Holy crap, you actually got her,” said Hiro, his stubbly face leering down at her. “Fuck, she’s beautiful. And she’s… She’s actually…” 

“A living person?” said Tohru’s kidnapper. “Supposedly, anyway. It’s not like you can tell. She won’t speak or anything.” 

“Can she hear us?” 

“I don’t know. Probably. I’m not an expert. Does it matter?” 

Hiro’s thumb slid up Tohru’s stomach, the nail catching her breasts. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “M-maybe.” 

“Look, whatever. I got her, now pay up.” 

“Okay, okay. Relax.” 

Planting Tohru on the store’s counter, Hiro rummaged in the till, grabbed a good stack of bills, and stuffed them into her kidnapper’s hands. “There.” 

With a nod, the thief turned and left. 

Hiro, meanwhile, turned his attention back to Tohru, licking his lips and leaning in close. Too close. She squealed, wishing she could pull away. 

“Don’t worry,” said Hiro, grin growing wider with the second, “I’m not going to sell you. You’re going in my personal collection.”

With a smug grin, he dragged her off the shop floor and into the backroom, where he held her up to a large glass cabinet. Tohru had been expecting to see it full of figurines like herself, but instead she found it full of candles…? Wickless candles, their wax piled in great, sloping mounds.

“See them?” said Hiro, holding her so close she could hear his heart pounding. “That’s how you’re gonna look soon, my little doll.” He laughed. “Well, time to get started.” 

Before Tohru could even think to ask what he was talking about, he planted her on a desk, reached for his belt, and–

She watched in growing horror, her inanimate eyes unmoving, yet her inner ones growing steadily wider, as he dropped his pants and took his shaft in his hand. 

N-no! No! Not again! Not again! 

Standing over her, he wrapped his fingers around his erect phallus, looked down at her, bit his lip, and with a deep breath, started to pump, picking up speed with the second. Soon his pants of effort were the loudest thing in the room. 

Trapped under the bowsprit of his cock, unable to move, to dodge, or even to raise her hands and shield her eyes, Tohru could only watch with growing terror as his pace grew faster and his cock, harder and harder, more and more pent-up, until at last–

“Nnngh!” With a groan, hips spasming, Hiro aimed his cock at her head and fired off a torrent of thick, hot semen. It coated her face in an instant, turning her entire world white, as if someone had tried to drown her in a bucket of milk, and from there trickled down her chin to land in her cleavage. It didn’t take long for it to fill that either.

Inside, Tohru screamed, writhing in silent disgust.

Shaking the last few drops of cum off, Hiro pulled back with a smug chuckle. Tohru couldn’t see him, of course, but she could hear him: “Enjoy. A few more baths like that, and you’ll be the perfect addition to my collection.” 

Tohru could only moan in disgust. 

— 

Case 69-29: Matsuri Kazamaki

Matsuri stood and stared at the wall as if trying to figure what type of stone it was composed of. Tucked into a slim niche at the end of the storehouse’s shelves, without the space to move her flattened body an inch in either direction (even if she had still been animate), she had little choice in the matter. 

For the first few weeks of her time in the warehouse, she’d entertained hopes–slim ones, but hopes nonetheless–that they might be able to help her. Their leaving her alone in the storehouse like this might have been a little thoughtless, but then, what else were they supposed to do with her? She didn’t blame them–she probably would have done the same in their place. It was fine; she didn’t need special treatment. So long as they were working towards turning her back to normal. 

As the weeks wore on, she began to doubt this. 

For the first few days, people coming into the storehouse had paid some attention to her, even if they hadn’t actually spoken to her. As the weeks wore on, however, they started to ignore her outright, as if she were just another part of the decor. Soon enough, they started to move her about like she just another object, neither asking permission nor apologizing for doing it. And eventually, someone had slipped her behind here, into this awful cranny, where no one could even see her. At that point, even the minimum amount of human contact she received dropped to zero, reduced to nothing more than the sound of footsteps and muffled voices. 

And the weeks rolled on, and on, and on, and on… Matsuri soon gave up counting them. Gave up that, and any remaining hope she’d had of being turned back and resuming her normal life. This was all she was now: just a piece of cardboard bearing the image of her former self, and even that had been perverted. She wasn’t an Ayakashi exorcist anymore–she wasn’t even human. And nothing she could do would ever change that. 

She stood and stared at the wall, thinking very little at all.

—

Case 69-46: Makima

Makima rushed through the station with a subtle whirring of motors, her giant boobs threatening to pop out of her uniform. “Excuse me! Um, excuse me! Sorry, sir! Coming through!” In one hand, she held a mop; in the other, a bucket of soapy water, which sloshed, spilling its contents all over the floor, as she slipped between one policeman after another. 

Finally, she reached her destination: bursting through the restroom doors, she skidded to a stop and planted her hands on her hips. “What a mess!” she said, grinning enthusiastically. “I better get to work right awaaaaaaaaay!” Taking a step, she slipped on a patch of urine and ended up with her face in a puddle of soapy water, her boobs squished against the tiles and her butt up in the air. Her mop landed beside her with a clatter. 

As Makima struggled to sit up, one of the cubicles opened, and out stepped one of her many masters. “Again?” he said, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Haven’t those idiots switched you from clumsy maid mode yet? I told them to put you on janitor mode weeks ago!” 

“I’m sorry, master!” said Makima, grabbing a sponge and struggling to mop up. “I-it won’t happen again, I swear!” 

“This is the fourth time you’ve done it this week, you stupid cunt! End personality emulation; activate sexbot mode.”

A ripple passed through Makima’s form. She froze. “Awaiting your command, master.” 

“Good,” said the officer. “Stay like that.” approaching her, he bent down and pinched the hem of her skirt, lifting it to reveal the pair of panties she wasn’t wearing beneath. “What happened to your underwear? Never mind, I can guess. Fuck, they’re supposed to clean you out after they use you. Ugh, pass me that sponge.” 

She did so. Taking it, he started to rub her sex, making sure to get the sponge as deep inside her as he could, before moving on to her anus.

“Ooo, ooo, oh, master, it feels–” 

“Shut up. I ain’t doing this for you.” She shut up. 

 Finally, having satisfied himself that she was clean, he stood. “Okay, now, up against the wall. And hold your skirt up for me.” As she carried out his instructions, he unbuckled his belt again, and dropped it, followed shortly by his pants and his boxers. 

“Ooo, master, you’re sooooo big.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and let me fuck you.” Taking his shaft in hand, he guided towards her swollen cheeks and, after a moment of indecision, forced it into the tight, plastic hole of her anus. It shivered as he entered, automatically vibrating. He screwed up his eyes and bit his lip to keep himself from cumming right there and then. 

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hands around her and grabbed her breasts, sinking his fingers into those fat, jiggling melons. Normally this would have elicited a loud moan, but since he’d told her to shut up, she only shivered a little. 

Tightening his grip, he pulled back and started to thrust, wincing a little each time his cock slammed into her. Her cheeks clapped; her rectum shivered and stroked, working his shaft like the most skillful hand, and with every pump, he found himself breathing a little harder. 

Finally, he could take it no more. With a long grunt, he emptied himself in her.

As he pulled out, allowing his semen to pour out of her anus, his eyes slid to the sponge on the floor. He frowned, then shrugged. “Eh. Resume maid mode. And hurry up and clean this restroom, you clumsy slut!” 

“Eeek! Y-yes, master!”