Ah, Silver Serpent. The highly-acclaimed casino, dressed in extravagance and luxury. Countless patrons traversed its doors, hoping to score some wealth that they could only dream of. When the smallest bet increment already had four digits, you knew it was serious.
Normally, Sky wouldn't be here. The toon Skymin wasn't particularly interested in the lavish display of gold. However, Silver Serpent also traded in more than just money, and that was this latter part that intrigued him.
The casino was also an establishment for the kinksters and the depraved. Many of the furs were dressed in latex, rubber, and other sorts of kink gear; some ditched clothes entirely. Living decorations filled the hallways, such as gold-plated statues with furs locked inside, people glued into the rubbery seats spread across the establishment, furs sealed in framed vacbeds along the corridors, and more. It was permissible and legal to bet abstract concepts such as your freedom and your humanity; let's just hope you didn't lose that bet.
The toon originally came here to appreciate the displays, but he couldn't help but be attracted into some of the games. And he played well, too! He made a decent profit on one of the hold'em tables, making the proper calls and correct plays.
As a toon, he was literally made of ink. Normally he was solid enough, but with his excitement, a bit of him became melty and goopy. Unfortunately, that part was his fingers, which had thus stained the cards. Moreover, he was a newcomer that suddenly made a bank.
Cheater. He was accused of marking the cards. He tried to argue against it, appealing that his melting ink was just a natural phenomenon, but nobody believed him. Who would? None of them had seen a toon before. After a few fruitless minutes, he just resigned himself. So be it, if he was to be punished.
Besides... didn't he want it? From what he could see, whether it's furs that couldn't pay their debts or people that used illicit methods, any sort of punishment would be very kinky in nature. Half of him was scared, but the other half was anticipating, highly curious of what fate awaited him.
He walked as instructed by the lizard guards, passing through the busy game rooms. Which meant other patrons could see him is his entirety. He had arrived here nude like he always was, and the thought of a kinky fate awaiting him made him aroused, meaning his cock was in full view. Somehow, the fact that he was so exposed to everyone made him more embarrassed than the thought of his punishment. He decided to just pay them no mind and continued to walk.
Going through a door marked "staff only", the setting of the establishment changed, into corridors in more sterile white. Sky figured, this was where furs would be "processed". He found himself guided toward a room that looked like a small factory, with a huge conveyor belt on the middle. He could see a white sheet of plastic set on the belt, longer than he was tall, and wider than the span of his shoulders.
He was instructed to extend his arms, and so he did, for he was no longer resisting. The lizards picked him up effortlessly, holding him by his limbs in a spread-eagled position. This emphasized his member nicely, which drew out a little throb. He was then set on the plastic, still spread-eagled in an X shape.
The plastic, as it turned out, had some adhesive applied onto its surface. Now that it stuck to the toon, it was difficult for him to make any sort of significant movement; any part he tried to move would also pull the plastic underneath him, and given that it was hard plastic, it barely yielded. He was stuck, like a fly on sticky paper.
And it turned him on. With him laying down, his cock was jutting upright, the only part of him that was not stuck. It gave another throb as a lizard approached him with a cock ring. Fondling him a little bit, the lizard soon set the ring properly, the tightness keeping him fully erect.
A pulled lever, and then the belt began to move. Naturally, Sky looked forward to see where he was going. Past his bobbing dick, he could see... a giant cylinder, held horizontally, set flush against the belt. A roller. He was going to be squished flat underneath the metallic drum.
And he loved it. His cock twitched again.
Being a toon meant he was virtually invulnerable. So, of course, he turned into the improbable to find his pleasure. He had been flattened several times before, and it was always a delightful, heavenly experience. It was incredibly relaxing to simply give up one of his dimensions. At the same time, it was also a turn on. In his helpless, objectified state, he found utter pleasure he had never found anywhere else.
The guards just stood there and watched him. For them, this was a usual Thursday. Although, sure, the fact that this particular Skymin wasn't struggling or thrashing — unlike many other punished individuals — was certainly an unusual occasion. But it sure made their work easier. And nobody said the toon couldn't experience pleasure either, so it was a win-win.
As Sky approached the roller, he could see there was a second layer of plastic that was being unspooled by the roller. It was going to be laid down on top of him, so that he would be sandwiched between the plastic. He was going to be laminated. There's another twitch of his cock; he was a flattening slut.
His toes caught the second sheet, before promptly sliding underneath the roller and getting squished. Those toes were reduced to no thickness whatsoever; the two sheets of plastic were laid flush against each other. His feet came in next, the machine unrelenting.
And it felt so good. He shuddered, he moaned. His upper body tried to shift, although he was quickly reminded by the adhesive sheet underneath him. And his dick was twitching, throbbing, even leaking slightly. There was no pain whatsoever, everything was just pure pleasure, and it overwhelmed his mind.
More of his legs vanished underneath the cylinder, coming out on the other side as fully two dimensional. Trapped between the two sheets of plastic, Sky was no longer able to move his lower body in the slightest, not even the tiniest twitch. He was truly stuck.
And then came the big part. Of course, the belt didn't care that it was feeding the toon's crotch inside. The roller didn't care it was going to flatten the toon's maleness. Sky, though, very much cared. The pressure directed on his dick was incredibly intense, it nearly made him black out. It felt like a heavy boot stomped on his length, and given that the toon was immune to pain, all that got translated into pleasure. There was a loud moan filling the room, yet the guards remained standing unflinched.
He was edged, he was brought close to his peak. Sadly, the flattened cock ring held him tight, and it failed to push him further. As his cock vanished underneath the roller, trapped between his belly and the plastic sheet above it, he didn't quite reach the orgasm he wanted. He had to endure this denial, kept at the verge of his climax. Perhaps this was the real punishment, not being able to cum!
The rest of the process wasn't substantially different. His belly and chest went underneath, and it was the same amazing experience as he had with his legs. Only this time, his cock was not free to throb, or to even twitch. It just stayed still, completely immobile in its plastic prison, just like the rest of his body.
His face was approaching, and he decided to put on a smile. Undoubtedly a rare sight among the living decorations in the establishment, given most people were there against their will. Strictly speaking, this wasn't entirely what he came here for either, but so far he thoroughly enjoyed his "punishment"! He had to restrain himself from moaning and ruining his pose. He wanted to be smiling, to appear cute, even if his dick clearly suggested otherwise.
The toon's head compressed down, just like the rest of his body. The snout, the eyes, those huge ears. And finally, as his stretched arms vanished underneath the roller, he was done. Reduced to an image on this sticky sheet of plastic, with another pressed on top of him. A toon Skymin, flattened and laminated.
There was one final stage of processing to it, although he was completely helpless and couldn't change his fate any more anyway. Jets of ink were sprayed over his plastic sheet. He was then lifted up and shown in front of a mirror, letting him get a good look of his current state: basically a living playing card, with his form sealed securely in plastic, with a Jack of Clubs motif printed over his form. Of course that made sense; he was playing a game of cards, so he was to become a card. While some of the ink was printed over his body, most of him was bare, and nothing hid his smiling face and his strained cock.
Finally, he was brought back to the establishment. Patrons always loved a new toy to tease with, and once he was installed on a wall, people started looking over him, touching the laminate plastic, pressing against his flattened form. He was completely still, of course, unable to move a twitch. His eyes were unblinking, although he could direct his pupils to look at a few directions. That was also enough movement for the patrons to recognize that it was a true, living fur sealed here, instead of merely a simple inanimate decoration.
He was to endure all the teasing these furs directed toward his body. A bear rubbed his strong hand over the toon's flat chest and belly. A cheetah stroked along his arms, from the fingers down to the shoulders and armpits; the teasing tickled him, but he was in no position to even wriggle an inch.
Of course, the most teasing was the tigress, who ran her digits over his length. Slowly, from the base with the cock ring, to the tip. Up along the middle, then down the sides. Sky found himself blushing on his cheeks — the only other way he could do anything, besides his eyes' movement. And this blush didn't go unnoticed by the tigress, who cast a mischievous smile, as she began to rub her fingers along the entirety of his length, simulating a handjob.
There was nothing else the toon could do but enjoy the ride. His arousal, sustained from the processing earlier, grew once again as he felt himself inching closer to a release. A massive orgasm that would rock his body. He got closer and closer...
But he couldn't. A decoration didn't cum, and he didn't either. The cock ring made sure all his fluids were locked inside, and if that wasn't enough, the flattening completely suppressed the entirety of his body. The arousal kept going, but there was no release to be seen. He was not going to cum. Not now, not ever.
He had the rest of eternity of being a flat, edged, living playing card to look forward to. And he wished he had come here sooner.