Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories


by Dreamweaver

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© Copyright 2002 - Dreamweaver - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; MF/fm; scifi; bodymod; bodysuit; meld; latex; oral; anal; sex; fisting; climax; cons; XX

Joint UN/DEA Merge Task Force. Victim debriefing transcript. 

Autotranscriber 44, Milton Keynes, 4/7/2050.  Is this thing working?  Err, Hi. My name... uh, I guess that doesn't matter. I'm 29, and you might have seen me in a couple of porno holos from the late 40's... Anyway, you want to know how I got like this.

[sighs. some rustling noises]

The thing is, right, I had a baby, eighteen months ago. Like a lot of girls I just put on weight like a rocket after that, and my tits got kind of saggy and my bum and thighs went right out of shape... I wanted to get back to the old me, the one in the holos. I could run them, you see, and stand beside 'me' at eighteen, and see the differences. Anyway this really affected my relationship with my boyfriend. After three or four months of this, he left, taking Jo with him. Although I wasn't short of money, and didn't need to find a job, I started feeling kind of.. ugly, you know? Nothing I did looked right. I kept trying different hairstyles, and never really settled down. Exercise was boring, too, and my sex drive was like, really low... I didn't know what to do with myself.

The only thing I had left from the old days on the Holos was something from the kinky series. It was a full-length rubber bodysuit, made exactly to my old measurements. I tried it on a couple of times, and it wasn't a great fun experience, it bulged and wrinkled in places it shouldn't have, so although the memories of the kinky times in it were nice, it served only to remind me of my condition. Eventually, I got back in touch with the suppliers who had made the suit. I explained the problem to them, and they were terribly sympathetic - it's run by this nice old girl, and she seems to know exactly what the problem is and offers to help out, if I pop down there.

Anyway... she made me an offer. If I would agree to see some of her kinkier clients, I could have the suit they'd make for me, for free.  I wasn't dreadfully short of money, but the cost of the suit was going to be high, and they did want extra for the bits they described as 'body shaping' - different weights of latex round the waist, cups for my tits, and so on. It seemed like a good deal, and no worse than the old days in the holos, so I agreed.

Come the appointed day, they had me turn up and get showered, have an enema (which I thought a little weird, but they insisted), and they laid out these clothes. The suit was pretty thin. I couldn't see how it was going to shape me up. It had been made on one of those laser cutters, and the rubber was shaped very precisely - the gloves exactly fitted my hands, down to the long fingernails; the neck of the hood and the feet all matched my shape precisely - but the tits and bum were a little loose and the waist and thighs way too tight, the upper legs all bunched up and wrinkly. Despite that, though, once I was wriggled into it, I looked pretty good. 

The shaping was carried out in a room with a stand-up, memory plastic mould in it.  The thing looked vaguely like a hollow shape of a person from the outside, but with lots of moving parts to it. They opened it up and helped me stand inside it. Once I was in the right place, they shut the front, and it gripped me in lots of odd places - top of the legs, across the shoulders, at the ankles. They dialled in the settings with me still getting comfortable, then handed me a pint of milky fluid to drink. 'Just for x-rays' they said.

Once in the machine, which sealed tight round my neck and just left my feet poking out of the bottom, they lifted it up in the air so my feet were clear of the ground and put these fantastic high heels on me, at least six inch things with a pointed toe - not for walking in, or so I thought! Then they had me put on a breathing tube. I must have looked quite a sight! I didn't really wonder why they had so much machinery about the place - it seemed a large operation, and I could see one or two people waiting outside, through the frosted glass.

I started feeling faint and woozy, and could feel the machine pushing and pulling at me in different places. After a while I went to sleep. I woke up in the recovery room, on a trolley. A tight corset had been added to the suit, just holding my waist very gently. I got up, rather unsteadily, and looked in the mirror. I was amazed! The suit fitted in all the right places. I guessed they had been fitting the suit to me, in the machine, and that this was the result. With the monster heels on my feet, my long hair poking out of the hole in the hood, and my tits pushing against the rubber, I looked the business - so much so, that I undid the crotch zip and had a quiet frig. My sex drive had definitely returned!

The day's work was across town, so they had me put on an overcoat and jump in a car. It wasn't anything too demanding or special - just bad-mouthing some old perverts, and spanking a couple more, and they all seemed impressed enough. By the end of the day, I was really tired, and just wound up flaking out, still in the suit. When I woke up, I found a note beside me on the bed. Someone had left it and taken off the corset while I slept. It said that I was now stuck in the role and in the suit, and that unless I wanted to work for them for the next six months they'd not deprogram me. There was a tape with the note, with 'play me' written on it. I threw them across the room.

Well, I was horrified, for about the first minute... then I went to the bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Now, normally in the morning I look like shit, I can tell you - dumpy, bored, the works. This time round, in sashays this sex goddess, legs up to *here*, tiny waist, big firm tits and bum, wobbly high heels. All I had to do was wipe on some lipstick, tidy up the mascara and eye shadow, and brush out my hair - what of it poked out of the hood, at the top. Hey presto - fresh as a daisy!

Once on the toilet, I discovered that I wasn't quite stuck - the zip at my groin still unzipped. I had a chance to take a closer look at myself, which was quite a surprise - finding my belly button reproduced in rubber, and that rubbing where my nipples should be producing a bump and a flush, for a start! I guess the flush was a mistake, because after a minute I had my finger on my pussy, posing in front of the mirror. I had to play the tape, and look around the apartment.

Some of the stuff there was just so weird! I tried on some of the leather harnesses and body straps, and then ran the tape. It was pretty weird too. It said that I should look around, as I'd be working in the place quite often. It said that I was not to go out, and in any case, there were no street clothes there for me to wear, and that food would be delivered. It finished by reminding me to look after all the equipment and make sure everything was washed after use, especially the double dildoes.

I didn't know what they were, so I looked them out. They were just wild! A pair of balls moulded into the outer cock, a long inner cock, and some complicated thing so that as you pumped the outer one to and fro, the inner one inflated and deflated. There was also a pair of short zips on either side, whose purpose I couldn't work out - until I summoned the courage to try one out. They looked so realistic, being flesh coloured and textured and all.

It was awful fat, and long. it took me a minute or two of wriggling before it went right inside, with a 'smack', then I realised the zips mated with those on the suit! Ten seconds of zippery, and I had a cock! When I put my hand on it and wanked the outer one, the one that looked like it had grown on me, the inner one expanded and contracted - my knees went to jelly. I'm afraid the first client had to suck that, and suck the juices off the inner part. I loved every minute of it.

I had twelve clients in three days, and did everything, from tying them up to making them wear female clothes, to fucking their behinds with the dildoes... I just went crazy! The flat was just stuffed with really crazy costumes - I had a rubber nurse outfit, with a little white cap to go round the ponytail, a short black dress and a white apron, and a riding mistress thing with white jodhpurs and a white rubber top which buttoned right up to the neck - I scared the daylights out of one guy by wearing the dildo underneath the jodhpurs...

I loved it, initially... but after a while, I began to get concerned about my own condition. I didn't seem to get bored, didn't eat much, and didn't feel inclined to take the suit off, ever. Eventually, I managed to find a holo of me in the old days, in the punter's waiting room, and as soon as I played it, I realised what they had done, and called you guys. It's not right, is it? You can help me out of this, can't you?

[ascii mode description of case follows. Subject has suffered extensive body reshaping facilitated by clinical overdose of Shachter's RNA messager and Collagen deconvolver viral combine (AKA 'Merge'). Breasts have increased by five inches each, waist decreased from 26 to 20 inches, by migration of fatty tissue to breasts. Buttocks are three inches larger, and thighs have been elongated and narrowed by bone and muscle fluid flow and external pressure, by five inches. Feet have been deformed to fit seven inch stiletto heeled shoes, now permanently attached.

Overall height has changed from 5'4" to 6'4". Overall measurements are now 38-20-42. Subject was wearing a 2.5mm thick natural rubber catsuit, coloured black, at the time of ingestion of the viral base and combine gas. This served as the primary mould for the subsequent tissue movement. The subject continued to wear the suit for three days after ingestion, leading to long term merging of the subject's dermis with areas of the suit in contact with the skin - the virus appears to have dispensed with the epidermis completely in affected areas. 

Nerve fibers and sweat gland ducts have migrated into the latex, along with some gross physical attributes, such as the erectile portion of the nipple of each breast, the belly button, and the fingernails (which in this case had previously been stimulated into extended growth by use of a commercial product). Where the suit had zips, or small air gaps, the epidermis has remained.

The anus and vagina are as before, as is the flesh of the exposed section of the face, though the border of the latex hood now merges smoothly into the skin. The suit edges at the crotch zip now pull at the skin as if adhered with superglue. The same merging process has taken place on the feet, with the natural leather of the shoes taking the place of the latex. There is no sign of individual toes or toenails in the X-rays.

Subject seems relatively unconcerned by the situation, and in no discomfort. She seems to have a high sex drive, having aggressively seduced one female and two male staff members since arrival at the clinic. She seems unclear as to what she is requesting by way of treatment or remedial action. Client therapy transcript continues...]

Anyway, it's been a couple of weeks since I last talked into this thing. The doctors here seem really worried that they might not be able to get the suit off me. I keep saying that it's not really such a big deal, and that they just need to make me kind of presentable in public, you know? The staff who I've had agree to be my slaves are cool about the whole deal. They say that while there may be very long-term effects, I can always go back to the shop and see if they will sort me out, in return for services rendered. One little nurse, Nurse Stevenson, gets terribly turned on whenever I'm near, and just can't keep her tongue off my rubbery nipples. She really loves to feel my sharp fingernails slapping across her backside and penetrating her secret parts... 

But why should I tell you about that? The point of today is that they've said they want to do a little experiment. A week or so ago they took a tissue sample from the parts of my backside, which aren't rubber, and they've been growing the skin in culture. They're going to try to detach some of the suit, mostly the hood (my hearing really isn't all that hot with it on), and a 'cosmetic section' across my chest. I've said I don't want the suit spoiled as a visual effect, and Dr Tony, one of my male slaves (who can only stand his cock in my mouth for about fifteen seconds, the wimp) has promised to supervise the whole process. Apparently, it'll mean a week on the dream machine while the cultured skin settles in, and there may be another process to give me my hair back (apart from the little ponytail at the back, which they will be trying to keep). I'll be back to let you know what comes of all this!

[T plus 7 days]
Oh well - I suppose you can't have everything - they couldn't save the ponytail. As it stands, though, the rest of the process was a success. I now have a lovely, baby smooth expanse of soft skin on the sides of my face, all across my skull, around my neck and extending in a deep vee to between my breasts. They're a little concerned that the interface between my rubber skin and my normal skin may suffer, so they apparently spread Merge cream on the link, so the join happens very smoothly and flexibly.

Oh wow, did I have some horny dreams while on the dream machine! It was great! They had me secured on a large bed, so that I couldn't move about and spoil the binding process, and my upper body, from my tits upwards, was stuck inside a Hyperbaric chamber. I'm not sure if it was a dream or not, but during the last half hour of the last day, this simply *huge* black guy crept into the room and sucked me out! It felt *amazing*, particularly the last few minutes when he stuck his giant cock right up inside me, then jerked off over the plastic of the chamber...

I went back into dream-state after that, or so I thought... still do think, really. Anyway, here I am, looking a bit pinker, if no less kinky. If anything, the merge on the boundary has helped to make my nipples more sensitive in the rubber, and some of the tissue of my tits has moved to under the skin, making a bit of a cleavage. I look a million dollars in the mirrors- those tall enough to show me full length, that is. I'm looking down on all the men here, by several inches.

When I walk around the centre, people stop and stare. it's all the better for me in a way, because I wear a loose smock over my black rubber skin, and although they think I'm kinky, to me I'm just naked. I don't quite know what I want them to do for me at the moment, though it sounds as though it could take some time, and I'm getting awful bored.

[T plus 8 days]There - what do you think?

[ascii description. subject is wearing a knee-length skirt of dark red velvet, and a white blouse. Subject's forearms and lower legs are bare, with a pair of red, 7 inch heeled stilettos on her feet. Her hair is blonde and short, with a forward fringe]

Oh, of course, you can't think - you're just a machine. Well, this is my going out disguise. Dr Tony thought up the extra bits - they're just neoskin formed carefully to look more real, on a tyvek base. If I keep my skirt down, wear a blouse like this and don't go on the beach, nobody will see my rubber skin. The wig's quite a good one too, don't you think? They can't do anything about hair until they find a tissue match, and for my part I'm not sure I'm all that worried. Covering my shoes was the hardest part, ironically solved with some red rubber attached to the bottom of the flesh stockings. I'm going home to make sure everything's OK at the flat, and talk to my ex for a bit...

[T plus 9 days]
My God! That was such fun! I wasn't aware of how much taller I really am, until I went home! Everybody looks at me, points and stares - wherever I go! The flat was OK, by the way, though I'm going to have to get a longer bed, for sure. I’ve been fucked by four different men since I left here... I really should tell you everything, shouldn't I? Just let me get comfortable.

[Subject sits, unbuttons blouse and removes it; peels down flesh disguise gloves, revealing still merged upper section, arms and hands of rubber suit. She cups and tweaks left breast with right hand, and then removes skirt and flesh disguise stockings and shoe covers. She assumes a posture on the interview couch with one knee cocked upwards, the other flat. The still separate portion of the suit, at her groin, is exposed and under a small amount of tension]

That's better. Now, first was the taxi driver. I was kind of worried that ordinary men wouldn't find me attractive any more, so when I got home, I had him go out and get me some groceries, and some polish. When he got back, I was just out of the shower, and had a towelling robe on. He could see the rubber on my legs and hands, just as I was drying off, and I stood up, undid the belt of the robe, and showed him everything.” Do you find this unpleasant?" I asked. His face said "not in the least", which was just as well, because he couldn't speak. 

"Good." I said. "Get that polish and come here and make me nice and shiny."

It was beeswax polish, nice and soft and natural, and he spread it carefully and thinly over my whole body. I posed around for him as he did it, getting him to polish my arse while I knelt in a chair, making him kneel to do my lower legs and so on. He had a raging hard-on even before he got to work on my tits, and as he polished up to each nipple, I rested my heels on his bulging dick. In the end, he was just as kinky as me, really. he had this shortish cock with a huge, fat head, and after a lot of licking of my pussy, I only had to suck it for a minute or two, unroll a condom over it and start pushing the head past the ring of my arse for him to explode. He got out pretty quick - I think he felt guilty - and left me badly frustrated, and quite sopping wet. Just thinking about it now makes me wet, too…

[subject has undone groin zip, and displays lubricating vagina. With tension of zipped region reduced, legs fall farther apart]

So, I got the disguise back together, and went out shopping. None of my old clothes fitted me at all, and I traded the lot in at the bring and buy. Everybody stared - I had to keep stooping to speak under the awnings of the stalls. I wanted to find something that I could wear with as little of the disguise as possible - it makes my palms sweaty and my knees all scratchy, and takes the shine off in places - and I spotted a place with a laser cutter rig, doing leather and fake skins to order. Without thinking things out, I went in. It was all alternative and quite young, and this little assistant girl soon zooms in and asks me what I want. I ask for some zebra-stripe jeans, and explain that they'll have to be cut on the machine, what with my measurements, and that I need a zip at the bottom of each leg. She eyes me up and down, and then her eyes flicker to the wig rack. I nearly died - there's a wig with my exact hairstyle on the rack! 

She knows something's odd. When we go into the measuring booth, she has me sit down, then she comes up behind me. in an instant, the measuring tape is round my arms and body and she's fiddling under my fringe. a tug, and she can see that I'm bald. "Hmm," she says. "Anything else you'd like to show me?" I was still horny from the taxi man, so I nodded silently and motioned to get up. 

"Wait." she said, strongly; "You need some more makeup and another wig, that one doesn't suit you at all."

The tape still holds me tight; she comes back with some red, red lipstick and a long black and curly wig. It's amazing, I can see the difference in the mirror - a coy, pouting little nymphet, for all the height I've gained!

[a trickle of vaginal lubricant has worked it's way down to the subject's Anus. She wipes it up with a finger and licks the finger clean, returning it to rest on her vagina]

Anyway, I take off all the disguise. The girl's eyebrows climb up her face, and then she attacks me! Pushes me into the corner, jams her knee up against my crotch zip, and starts mauling my tits. I came nearly straight away! She turns me round, spanks my behind, all the time telling me what a naughty bitch I am... Her hands go just everywhere, she's tweaking my nipples, like this - uuh - she's pushing the zip against my clit - oh, it's open, I can't show you... and after a while she shouts out for someone called Barry.

A guy sticks his head through the curtain - he's got one of those mohican cuts, stiff and bristly, and this little goatee beard. She tells him to get in here and take a look at this merge case. Let me tell you, I thought I was weird! He stepped into the cutting booth and it turns out he's wearing a zebra-stripe catsuit, with an orange fur codpiece and these waaay kinky heeled boots! As soon as he sees me, he smiles in a quiet kind of way and undoes the codpiece. He was pierced. Right through his cock, three times. Just behind the head, and at inch intervals back from there. Big shafts right through, with flattened, rounded balls on their end. Once hard, they snuggled up against the shaft, and he fucked me from behind, like this - ummm.... while I had to get my tongue up his girlfriend's cunt. The sensation of those metal things plopping to and fro past my lips was exquisite, I can tell you!

So, I'm squirming about like a mad thing, up and down on his dick - in those high heels, he's about the only person tall enough to fuck me like that, so I thought I'd better make the most of it - and people are walking past all the time outside! It was wild, and his girlfriend's pussy was nice on my tongue - she kept coming out with all this crazy stuff, too, about how she wanted to get a job done like mine, once she could afford it...

So, in the end, I got my zebra-stripe jeans made up for free, and they threw in this great, tarty looking metallic film top, which is just so thin, you can guess - almost - at what's underneath, though the long puffed sleeves and high collar hide a lot. I've got their number, too - they want me to go to one of their parties, and they said they'd introduce me to their piercing man - Barry said the man mentioned some merge kind of stuff to him. So, that  was my first day out!

I got back to the flat, tried on the clothes - just right for visiting my ex - and looked through the electromail. As you might expect, the bunch from the shop and the bordello had left messages, some of them nice, others not so good - I've brought them here on disk for you guys. There were a couple of calls from friends I hadn't seen in a long time, who'd heard about us breaking up. One of them was a real bastard, a snide loudmouth who was obsessed with getting between me and my ex, and kept on coming up with these filthy dirty suggestions for what he'd like to do with me. He said he'd heard I was in here at the clinic, and wondered whether I'd like to drop him a call - I guess he thought he had something over me somehow. I thought, I'll fix *him*...

Anyway, I had myself a plan, so I turned up at his place late on, in my nice new zebra stripers, metal top and the long black wig - he wasn't going to recognise me. I had the shorter disguise gloves with me, thank god, so I looked like some classy call girl in black ankle boots beneath the zebra, a flashy silver top, and some tartish makeup. He didn't recognise me, of course!

It took him fifteen minutes of small talk to get around to asking me about the clinic, and then it was all snide nonsense about making women's pussies bigger. He couldn't really relate the new me to the old me in terms of size - he thought the increase in height was just down to the heels - and I got pretty tired, pretty quickly. Eventually I just grabbed his prick through his jeans and said, "If you want to see what I've had done to me, you'll have to come with me. We're going to give Brian (my ex) the shock of his life..."

Well, to cut a long story short, Brian had another girl with him! They had by the looks of things just been considering some heavy petting - she can't have been much over eighteen, judging by her flustered manner as we strode in, trying to hide herself behind a sofa cushion... it gave me just the excuse I needed, to take control. Within a couple of minutes, I had the boys sitting meekly on the sofa, and the girl standing naked, looking up at me in terror.  "I can see exactly what was going to happen here" I said. "All I can say is that you people just don't know how to have fun. You, jailbait - undo this cuff." 

I held my hand out, and she unclipped the cuffs of the metallic top. She could see my hands weren't normal skin, and her eyes went like saucers when I pulled the cuff back and hooked my finger under the edge of the glove of the disguise. When my hand became visible, she forgot she was naked and put her hand up over her mouth in astonishment. I got my exposed hand down double quick and stroked her pussy with my middle finger. she was soaked.

"I thought so. You like this. See, fellas, she's all wet at the idea. You, bitch - clean this off" I said. And she did, too... As soon as the finger was clean, I put it back right inside her, and had her take the glove off my other hand. The guys were agape, too. I grabbed her tit with the exposed rubber hand, and said "Unzip my trousers", then had her get right down to my feet and unzip the bottoms of the legs. "Lick my feet!" I said, just to see if she'd go the full route - and she did! 

I'm not sure whether it was a bigger shock to have her do it, or realise that I could faintly feel her tongue going across the black patent leather. My nerve endings seem to have merged slowly into it from underneath. I sat down and had her suck my heels briefly, and then grab the trouser bottoms and pull them off. Again, her hand went to her mouth as she saw my exposed legs and the zip at my crotch, though one other hand went down to her pussy... 

I said something to the guys, who had their cocks out, about this being what they had been asking about. I sent her over to sit between them, and had her stroke their cocks as I stood up and did a little dance for them, wriggling out of the top and showing them my tits, hardening nipples and the little round zip-puller dangling between my legs. She stroked harder and harder as I undid the zip, and was only too pleased to have me drag her to the floor and sit on her face... it all got pretty wild after that. They seemed prepared to take my instructions, and it wound up with the girl licking me while Brian fucked her and the other guy jerked himself off over her.

[the subject has inserted a number of fingers in her vagina, and one in her anus, and is twitching regularly from arousal. Her other hand strokes her nipples and her merged shoes and feet. there seems to be some fixation with the emergence of some sensation through the rubber at the nipples, and the patent leather over her feet, as her nerve endings migrate a little further] [interview terminated - time period allotted]

[T plus 23 days][subject is dressed in zebra stripe stretch pants and a sliver metallic top. Disguise items such as short gloves covering her still-merged hands, and a short black wig conceals her merged condition]

Hi there, my confessor... like the outfit? I agreed to wear it for Dr.Tony, who hasn't seen me for, what, a month now? He wound up jerking off over my tits as soon as he saw my nose stud. Do you like it? Silly question really. How can a machine like or dislike something...You really do have to be told how I got it. It's quite relevant to my case, and they've asked me to relate as much as I can. But let me get this daft wig off, first... So, like I told you, I got invited to a party by the people down at the clothes shop. They said they knew some Merge modified types who I'd enjoy talking to, so I thought, why the hell not? They suggested I go fairly normally dressed to begin with, and see how the land lies before getting down to my skin, so I wore this stuff, and a raincoat over the top (shiny PVC, red, of course..).

It was a really dingy place, underneath an old shopping mall, with pipes and stuff at head-height, and occasional brightly lit sections where various things were going on. There was less booze about than I had expected, but that was because a number of the partygoers were actually having modifications done to them, right there. I wandered around the place with my two friends, and I was shocked, I can tell you. I mean, some of it was pretty mild. They had a spray tattoo booth and some people doing Alexander therapy, and body massage, and all that stuff.

One girl was hardly wearing anything, just a long cape and a red lycra bikini under it, with tight red boots laced up to her knees. She was tiny - no more than 5 feet tall, great curvy figure and real alternative, hard bitch makeup. No sooner had I looked at her than she came over and introduced herself as Dominique. She was great fun - a real laugh, and just so physical, climbing up on my lap and waving my arms around, making jokes about big tall people and similar. It didn't take her long to work out what kind of a disguise I was wearing, and the wig and gloves came off in short order - she was just so fascinated by my black rubber covered hands, and kept teasing me about them, running her tiny hands over my smooth scalp and up and down my fingers. I guessed she wouldn't leave me alone, and I was right.

A couple more drinks, and she's got the cape closed and the lycra bikini in her hand, squirming about on my lap like she's possessed. Someone put on a particular track and she jumps up, throws the cape back and starts dancing around in front of me, starkers! It only took a minute or two before she had me out of all my clothes too, and the whole group started clapping. I could barely hold still before she had my zip undone and this just amazing tongue stuck right up inside me! Like, it had to be five inches at least, and she could move it in three or four different ways all around and stuff - anyway, the point to the story is that she soon jumps right up and sticks the whole thing straight into my mouth, so I'm drinking down my own juice too.

Then she pulls right back and grabs my hand... now, listen to this bit real carefully, because I'm not too sure of this myself, but... Her tongue fitted right between my fingers - it took her a minute, or maybe even less, to lick right the way around my hand and just cover it in her spit. She spat on it a few more times, then laid me out in the middle of the crowd, holding on to the dripping hand - this one, my left - all the time. I barely had time to make sure the floor was clear before she was standing over the top of my arm and bunching up my fingers. 

I know exactly what you're thinking, but this was even freakier! I could feel her pussy muscles gripping my fingers, and then my thumb too, and then the back end of my hand - but she didn't stop! I'm lying on the floor and she has hold of my forearm with my hand right up her pussy, making funny stooping squatting movements, pulling my arm up and pushing it back and panting like a steam train. Pretty soon I can feel flexing forces on the bones in my arm, and I realise that this is from her wriggling to and fro. She crab-walks three steps back to the table and starts to lean back as I squat up on the floor, and then she reaches down with this squirt-thing and squirts goo on up my arm. I never thought, not in a million years, that she'd go beyond the elbow, but she did - huge cheer from everybody around us, and she starts on this low moan deep in her chest - get this, I could feel it with my hand, my fingers were fluttering to it. 

She propped herself up on one arm at that point, and pulled at the choker round the base of her throat. It came away with a pop, and suddenly all the breathy noises stopped coming from her mouth - I was just in shock, she had a trache hole in her neck! A few gurgles as she caught her breath, my arm shifting about with her movements, and she got up on all fours, crab-style, and made a sudden move. Next thing I know, something bangs against my shoulder and the back of my hand, and my arm's shaking like a leaf in the breeze, because she's just coming fit to bust. I look up at her face, while everyone's cheering away - and do you know, my fingers are poking out of her mouth? The thing against my shoulder is the edge of her thigh, and she's on my arm like some crazy glove, her boots around my neck." More cheers...

To be continued....

Credit to Rudy Rucker for the original idea for Merge, the drug, in the novel 'Wetware'. he just didn't think how weird things really could get! Other parts may come along someday.


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