I usually don’t dream, but when I do it never makes sense.
I opened my eyes, and it feels heavier than usual, like there was a lot of matter collected on my eyelids. There was an odd smell in the air, the smell of those blue gloves at the dentists’. I closed my eyes and gave it a quick rub. My eyelashes seem to be a lot fuller than last time I checked, and my arm movement was a bit tight. I open my eyes to see my nails painted red, and a leopard pattern beginning at my wrist. What was going on? I tried to get up, but it seems my back movement was restricted. I TRIED to take a deep breath, and everything felt off. It felt like something was strapped onto my chest, and my stomach could not expand.
I tilt my head downward, to identify the problem, and noticed two leopard patterned mounds blocking my view. I cautiously approached the mounds with my manicured hands, and discovered the mounds were soft, and covered by some type of rubber. I also realized that it was me underneath the leopard latex. A jolt of indescribable ecstasy erupted at the apex of the mound as the polished nails conquered the summit. I panicked.
I needed to get to the mirror inside the washroom to see what was going on. With my back not bending, I dug my newly acquired nails into the bed and hoisted myself to an upright position. My feet felt unusually heavy as I swung them from under the sheets. To my horror, my legs were completely covered in that leopard latex up to my ankles. I found a pair of black fetish heels, with what seems like two inch platforms on the front and a six inch heel behind. The glossy footwear was attached tightly to my dainty feet, with a pedicure to match my nails. My upper body followed the swivel of my lower half with a delay. The tight mounds on my chest seem to rebel against my core body movements, despite them being bound tightly to my body.
What happened to me last night? All the signs were point to the fact that I had the anatomy of a woman. I cupped the mounds protruding from my chest; the substantial, bulky flesh was more than my feminine hands could hold. My fingers told me of its soft rubbery firmness, and the soft rubbery firmness professed its love for my fingers. A gasp of delight escaped without my consent. I undoubtedly had breasts, which meant- I quickly recalled one of my hands to search for my manhood, as if haste could prevent it from disappearing. The search yielded a smooth, erotic, latex crotch, and a seam in the middle that leads to the forbidden valley that lies underneath this alluring latex. I quickly pulled my slim manicured fingers from my crotch before I lost myself in the sea of confusing new emotions.
My heels touched down on the ground, my stomach turned when I felt how far my foot was from the ground. My ankle twisted into an awkward position when I put pressure onto my legs. My latex legs creaked when I brought my foot up, giving the heels a quick tug, they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I tried to stand again, and stopped wobbling after finding the center of balance. I Lifted myself off of the bed with the help of my hands. As my latex body rose, my breasts, crotch and all of my new sensual curves all sang out in an erotic tune as they rubbed against each other through my glossy second skin. I found that I had propelled myself in a head first charge towards the wall. Luckily, before I could hit the wall, I tripped over my ridiculous heels.
My rubbery skin screeched, my female parts flailed wildly as I resisted gravity. I was inches away from a face plant on the wall. I landed on my breasts, instantly winding me. The constriction within my abdomen area was not helping. I turned over onto my back, liberating my breasts. I couldn’t breathe in, or out, I was suffocating. I desperately clawed at my gleaming leopard torso with my red nails for air, working my way up to the crushing breasts. Clutching them, and with some effort, I pushed them towards the ceiling with my lungs. My head tilted back, body arched, and the scent of latex filled my lungs, I felt something pushing at my skull, was it something on the wall? Taking a few more breaths, I got onto all fours to look at the wall, my breasts hanging in between my arms, there was nothing on the wall.
I sat down to free one of my hands to feel the top of my head. Sitting on the hard ground, I felt my bottom had become large, firm, and feminine. My soft hand started from the back of the head and moved forward. My tender fingers began to tremble; my entire head was all smooth latex, until just before my forehead, some sort of round triangle flap. I played around with it, flapping it back and forth, but it always bounced back to the same place, and upright. I discovered with my other hand an identical flap, symmetrical to the one on the left.
I REALLY needed to see myself in a mirror, but I had to get rid of the heels before I continued my journey which usually took me less than ten seconds. I grasped the heel of the inferno shoe with my perfectly made up hand and the platform with my other. Despite the pulling, the heels’ straps seem to be tightly bound onto my foot. I decided to crawl on all fours towards the bathroom; it was the safest way to travel. One limb after another, I made my way through around the wall and into the bathroom. The way my breasts moved, my tightly bound midsection, and how the latex felt when my thighs rubbed together as I crawled, caused a warm new sensation to emerge between my legs.
Once I made it to the washroom, I felt the icy tiles through my latex skin. My skin was quite sensitive, even through this latex prison. I had to elevate myself off the ground to see myself in the mirror. I reached up to the counter with one hand, and lifted myself with the support of the counter. Although the heels made it difficult to stand, having support from the counter helped. The latex screaked in embarrassing and sensitive crevices as I rose.
Staring at me was a latex vixen, the shock of which made me take a couple steps back until I found the support of the wall behind me. I stared into the mirror in disbelief and awe, and wonder what was going on. I looked like someone from my private collection of mags. A hood complete with cat ears, leaving only my eyes and lips exposed, a corset giving that body the perfect hourglass shape at the expense of oxygen, leading to the smooth latex covered well of heat building in between my legs, long latex leopard legs with seductive fetish heels.
I worked up the courage to make the leopard in the mirror pull her hands from the wall, to begin another expedition to the peak of the wondrous latex mounds bound onto its chest, to once again drink from the euphoric grail. As the lustrous nails passed in the valley between the mounds, the palms’ announced its arrival by sending shockwaves through its body, causing the leopard’s pink red lips to release melodies only heard when two creatures make love. The leopard in the mirror began to slump as its legs weaken. It stumbled closer towards the mirror, still shaking. Now with the support of the counter, the leopard could no longer ignore the fervid chasm in between its legs, desperate for attention long before the leopard revealed itself on the mirror.
The sleek nails slid down from the mound, crossed the hourglass corset, and found itself cut off from aiding the desperate nether region. A hint of frustration and disappointment came over the leopard’s intoxicated face, as the red nails’ attempts to break through the latex proved to be futile. The desperate clawing at the crotch slowly evolved into a smooth, rubbing motion, abrading the oddly rough latex against the lips of a hungry beast denied its full meal.
The leopard clenched its legs together as tightly, both from the excitement, and to support its failing legs, causing the latex to squeal in unison to the leopard’s cries. Despite its best effort to stay standing, and inadequate support from the heels, gave into the pleasure and collapsed onto the ground, disappearing from the mirror. I spread its legs to provide greater access to the dampness in between, enabling half of the red nails to enter, latex encased. The intrusion caused me to clamp together muscles I’ve never known in my life, followed by intense rapid throbbing, a feline scream of pleasure trailing off to a more human ending, then the longing for more.
I don’t know how long it was until I released my latex breasts, and what looked like a small latex eraser sprung up with the absence of my palm. It took longer for the other hand to leave the valley of paradise. This was bad, really bad. I had to regain control of myself, and figure out why I’m a latex centerfold. I lay sideways on the floor, aftershocks coming unexpectedly from time to time, causing me to curl up into a fetal position. The squeaky rubbing of the latex in my fetal position was not helping me calm down. The friction generated from the aftershocks causing my crotch to heat up once again.
I tuned onto my back, stretch out my limbs so they would not create friction, taking breathes as deep as the corset and heavy breasts would let me. I needed to regain my composure, escape this latex prison, and figure out what was going on. A plan was forming, which was a good start to this absurd situation I’m in. I began with the only place I could get a grip on. I wrap my glossed tipped fingers around the ears of the hood. With the ears held in a tight fist, I started to pull upwards, only to feel like I was trying to pull my face off. There MUST be some kind of seam somewhere. I struggled back onto my heels for another look in the mirror, to aid my escape of this confinement.
The latex vixen once again rose to meet my gaze. My entire body was hot, I could feel my heart beating under its full breast, small drops of perspiration formed on its leopard patterned latex. It desperately searched around its neck for a seam that never existed. Its painted fingers moved back onto its face, wandering the seductive, buoyant surface that was now its face. It reached the lips, a part of it that reminded it of its former, human self. The colored nails began its work around the lips, hoping to find an escape to its own skin. The leopard’s hands lost hope when it understood that where the lips ended, the leopard began. There was no seam. The cat’s full and bewitching lips produced a rough tongue, the tip of which, circled its latex confines, until it was back under its nose, where it began.
The leopard remembered that it needed to keep its nose wet, so it extended its tongue, until the tip of its tongue met with the tip of its black, latex nose. The leopard explored its nose with its elongated, feline tongue, as it stretched further up its nose. The tongue retreated down the nose, and found itself at the tip of its latex snout, then circling down the opening on the left. The leopard only dared to tease the entrance, slowly extending into its depth. The tongue recoiled back behind the leopard’s lips, before it was allowed to proceed any deeper. It was surprised at how far the latex extended, as its hands pinched its black feline nose and rubbed its fingers back and forth, abrading the latex lining the inside its nose. The now familiar sound of latex squeaking could be heard from inside its skull. There was no salvation here.
The leopard’s decorated hands raced to its final hope of escaping itself, its eyes. Its hands probed the black latex frames which held its made-up eyes, filled with an odd mix of concern and hope. It leaned closer towards the mirror, its right side taking a slight lead. Its eyes fluttered like bird taking flight, dark eyelashes extending outwards, long and flawlessly curved. The counter tried to prevent it from getting any closer, but the leopard allowed the counter to slowly dig into its already slender, corseted waist, in order to get more intimate with the mirror. Its full breasts fought against the latex to draw heavy breaths, only to be cut off in the middle, as there was no more room for air in its curved, irresistible, frame.
Its hands reached its human eyes, and its fingers traced along the non-existent latex seam that encircled them. The leopard’s fingers found no opening, but a thicker portion below its eyes that its glossy claws could dig into. It dug both its claws deeper into ledges, attempting to separate its flesh from the skin. The claws dug deeper into crevice, until there was pain, and the realization came that the long nails were just digging into its own skin.
Its hands began to tremble as it recognized that, this, this THING was now its face, this thing was… my face. My hands cautiously approached my new face, as if it was going to bring harm on contact. My hand traced the outline of my face, the other stroking the ears protruding from my head. NO this CANNOT be me! The leopard gripped both its ears in rage, and pulled fiercely, attacked its eye openings, frantically clawing at its face.
Tears of frustration and fear began to form in its eyes. I could feel the tear roll on the pitiful amount of skin that was not consumed by the mask, until it gathered on a lean edge where my humanity stopped, and the latex began. Sniffling began, followed by sobs and short little breaths as I buried my mutilated face in my hands. My face squeaked as my hands left them, to attack the corset that was getting more annoying with each breath as I cried. My eyes, weakened by my emotional state, could still make out a series of metallic pieces down the middle of the wretched suffocation device.
I worked off the reflection in the mirror, as I could not physically see past my new chest. I wiped the tears from one of my eyes, and attempted to undo the latches which held my waist prisoner. I was beginning to see the use of longer nails, as they assaulted the latches from all sides, probing for a weakness. The metal was not a latch, but a single, solid piece holding the corset together. My nails attacked each latch as I followed the corset down my flat stomach, hoping the next one would open. They were all as solid and unyielding as my new face.
A stroke of insight hit me, as most corsets are held together in the back. My hands raced towards my back, nails raking in a sweeping pattern, hoping they would catch onto an uneven spot where the strings and my escape will be found. My hands became frantic, as the search proved fruitless, refusing to believe in hard facts, my hands doubled its search; further enforcing that there was NOTHING at the back of the corset. I let out a cry of frustration, blended with a feline growl, and burst into tears. My nails dug into my palms as I formed fists to pound on the sides of my corset in a fit of anger; hoping that somehow hitting would allow me to breathe easier, crying was a luxury I couldn’t afford with my limited air.
I wiped the tears from both my eyes, in attempt to control my emotions. I may be trapped in this body, but I was not about to become a woman on the inside as well. My rapid inhaling in between sobs stretched the latex over the tip of my breasts, generating sensations which lessened the emotions currently in control of me. I continued to remove the tears from my eyes, until the latex leopard in the mirror became clear again. Streaks of black trailed from its eyes, a puddle of black liquid formed at the ledge where the latex began. Black streams lined its leopard patterned cheeks, leading to gleaming black drops of tears. I brought its hand to wipe the streaks from its reflective latex face, and found that my hand was stained black from the tears I’ve removed before. I had some sort of MAKEUP on my eyes? I looked closer in the mirror and saw the leopard had a pitch black outline around its eyes. A perfectly manicured finger approached its eye, and began rubbing at the bottom of the outline. The finger darkened, but the color surrounding the eye did not. I stared at its finger, and looked at the dark ring which highlighted its eye.
I turned on the tap, creating a bowl with my hands and plunged my face into the newly created pool. I attacked my eyelids with a determination to regain my male status, even if it was a small victory. I emerged from the pool and looked at the leopard. Boarding my eyes, the lines, still dark as midnight, my lashes, obsidian and curled, as if mascara was in my genetics. The water used to remove the liner ran all over the leopard’s face, darkening like the tears. I grabbed a bar of soap and rammed it into my eyelids, scraping back and forth, spreading a generous amount before plunging my face into another pool of water. I assailed the infected area with more determination, confident that the soap would deal the final blow to this symbol which marked me as a female.
I met the gaze of the leopard when my eyelids became sore from the savage attack. Its eyelids were becoming flushed, a sign that the attacks had been powerful. I looked at the leopard’s eyelids, the black border’s color unchanged, the lashes still perfect. The soap foam was dyed black, as the water and tears that came before it. I released the pool of corrupted foam, and stared at the leopard. Why is this me? Why? What made me this, this THING.