© Copyright 2011 - Mr. Scade - Used by permission
Storycodes: MF/f; M/f; D/s; latex; mc; conditioning; catsuit; fantasies; spandex; fetishes; femdom; boots; toys; mast; cons/reluct; X
Part 1: A Family of Fetishists
It was a beautiful dry season afternoon, the northern breeze was blowing and the sky was clear. Just outside a pair of automatic doors, staring onto a concrete road and a sea of parked cars, a young girl with hair the colour of red wine sat on her black, plastic bag; her arms wrapped around her chest and her red ballet heel impatiently tapping on the concrete floor. She was tired after the long trip and angry at family for being an hour late. Yet again her eccentric parents had failed to meet the simplest of requests in favour, as the wine-haired girl knew, of one of their many sexual games.
She sighed and stared upon her bright, red ballet boots. The ever haunting question of why she never met any other woman who, like her, wore only the majestic ballet boots - which, to her belief, were the only form of footwear a woman should wear - and instead found women wearing boring and sometimes disgusting shoes and sneakers.
A gust of wind brought her attention back to her dilemma. With a frown on her face she stared at the many travellers being picked up by their families or taxis and actually considered if it was not a better idea to simply call for a taxi; but, lucky her, the familiar outline of her mother's car appeared from somewhere on to her left. The girl of the ballet boots wanted nothing more than to frown and be angry at her unreliable parents, but she was too happy at seeing something familiar for a frown not to be replaced by a smile.
She wrapped her hands around her two bags and walked closer to the road. The black car with the many blue-flame designs parked just in front of her, the stained windows completely forbidding her from knowing what kinky clothing her parents were wearing.
Both doors opened in unison, two persons dressed in unconventional clothes walked out. The driver, the girl's father, was short and slim, with a shaved and well-cared face, his body was slender yet in shape. He wore a tight, pink t-shirt and black jeans and, to the girl's embarrassment, a pair of black ballet boots just like hers. Her mother, on the other hand, was much more public about her alternative lifestyle. She was tall and well-endowed, with a slim waist, long legs, wide shoulders and somewhat wide hips. All of her attributes, save for the colour of her skin and hair, were enhanced by a rubber catsuit; the mother was covered from head to toe with a thin layer of rubber; even her face was hidden behind a mask that only allowed access to the eyes, nose and mouth. The girl could also see that her mother was wearing a very tight and an exact replica of her daughter's ballet boots. Lucky for the girl and her social empathy, her parents had the sensibility to dress in what probably were their simplest clothes.
"Valeria! Mi hija, regresaste!" Cried the mother as she embraced her boring child.
"Mama!" Valeria cried in astonishment, happiness and even embarrassment as she embraced her mother, feeling the tight material her parents had, for years, coerced her into wearing. She could feel the amazed stares of the many people around as she felt her mother's ample bosom on her own.
"How was the trip?" Asked the father, his smooth features lighting with a soft, caring smile, his lip-gloss glistening even in the shade; he walked towards his daughter, the click-clack of heels drawing flabbergasted attention to the feminine sway of his hips.
Somewhere in the arrivals area of the airport a rude male voice cried "maric—n" - a word meaning fag. The family ignored it.
"It was great. I would love to tell you more, but I am tired and I've been waiting for an hour here," Valeria said as she moved away from her mother, who, to Valerie's ignorance, was softly moving her hip from side to side and pushing her legs together every now and then.
"Oh, we are sorry about that," Said her father, "We were having so much fun with a client that we, ehm, lost track of time."
"You still owe me for that," Valeria said as she moved a stray strand of wine-coloured hair from her face.
"We will make it up to you, we promise," Said Valeria's rubber-clad mother with a very erotic tingle to her voice, her gloved hands mindlessly caressing her corset.
"Nothing kinky, please," Valeria said, knowing very well what her mother's tone meant.
"Very well. Nothing kinky," Said the father with almost disappointment, "Okay, lets get those bags into the car and go back home."
"I'll do it, Carlos," Said Valeria's mother with a naughty smile on her face and a bizarre eagerness that made Valeria's social peril sensor start acting up, but she rationalized that there was nothing obscenely kinky about carrying some bags so she let it go. Besides, she was so tired she didn't mind it.
"Go ahead, Maria," Said Carlos with a shiny smile on his face as he crawled into the driver's seat.
With a smile and a dreamy face the rubber-clad woman softly wrapped her black fingers on the bag's handles. Maria simply loved being subservient - the idea filled her with a excitement and peace - besides, every step she took reminded her of the rubber encasing her whole body and the humming intruder between her legs. She lifted the heavy bags with ease and carried them with careful and slow steps towards the car's trunk. Every step made into an erotic dance thanks to her heels, and every step increasing her arousal, moving the humming intruder in and out of her sex. Valeria noticed her mother's increasing panting and the strange, buckling way her hips swayed; but she was too tired to think about it. Valeria looked away as soon as Maria's movements became erratic and she began to pant.
The humming echoed throughout Maria's rubber suit, slowly coming from between her legs and making her whole body shiver with pleasure. The long drive to the airport, plus her husband and Master's sexual taunting on the trip, had placed her quite near the edge; making the extra efforts. The moment she arrived at the airport she was already quite near the edge, and the extra effort of hauling her daughter's bags into the trunk, and the idea of being subservient, forced her to cross over the edge. Maria bit her lip and moaned unto her rubber forearm, her swaying hips buckled and pushed against the car's bumper, forcing the intruder deeper into her sex.
"Mama!" Valeria cried, her eyes wide with astonishment, her face red with embarrassment. She looked around the airport folk, avoiding eye contact with those who heard her mother's moan. Valeria immediately averted her gaze from the people and walked towards her mother, placing herself between the lurid stares and her panting mother.
"What did you do!?" Cried Valeria unto her mother's encased ear.
"Don't... don't cry on my ear, La-Latexia!" Her mother commanded in between pants as she still mindlessly pushed the intruder into her.
"Don't call me that. You know I don't like that name." Valeria whispered, her hands defensively resting on her chest, and moved away from her mother with respect.
"Hmmm..." Maria moaned as she straightened her body, allowing the intruder to vibrate its way out of her sex, but not quite, "That was good, Latexia, you should try it sometime. A vibrator and rubber encasement."
"I... I don't want to." Valeria whispered, her face turned towards the infinte at the other side of the road. She knew that her mother only called her by that name when she taunted her about joining into the fetish world.
"Oh, well, sooner than you think you'll learn to love it," Maria said, a smile outlined by her rubber, and walked towards the passenger seat. She opened the door and saw her husband shyly rubbing the outline of his sex through his jeans. A grin came over her lips. "Stop that, Carlos," She said as she crawled into the car, "You are going to upset Valeria."
"Me? Upset her?" Said Carlos with a merry tone and a mock-insult look on his face, one hand faintly rubbing his sex, "After what you did back there - which, by the way, was amazing - I doubt I can do anything to upset her."
"You'd be surprised, Master," Maria said matter-of-factly.
"Alright," Said Carlos with a sight and a smile, "Hey, Valeria, come on and get into the car!"
Valeria, who was trying as best as she could to ignore the stares of the travellers and whatever sexual activity her parents were talking about, was mindlessly staring at the beautiful mountains to the north when her father's voice brought her attention back to the car. Suddenly Valeria realized how tired she was and how much she wished to be home; she crawled into the car and sat behind her mother. A frown came upon her brow as she felt something pressing against her bum; she wriggled and moved a hand underneath her and shrieked as she recognized the object's shape in her hand. She pulled her hand out and held dildo before her eyes.
"Papa!" Valeria shrieked.
"Don't look at me, darling," Carlos chuckled as he stared the car's engine and grabbed the wheel, "It was your rubber mother's idea." And as he said that, Maria's rubber hand moved towards the car's radio and pressed the play button; soft, relaxing music suddenly began to fill the car. The soothing sound of fiddles and drums - dum da dum - and flutes poured out of the speakers and into Valeria's ears.
Valeria threw the sexual object to one side and sank into the car's seat, angry at her mother for trying once again to force her into the lifestyle, and cursing the smile she knew she had under the layers of rubber. But Valeria's ill temper soon faded as the combination of the seat's leather softness, the soothing music, and her own exhaustion carried her into a most-needed sleep.
---- 0 ----
There was a house filled with hundreds of bodies, some male and some female, all with shiny skins and moaning mouths. Before them sat a woman wearing ballet heels and a rubber hood, the rest of her body was naked except for a vibrator humming inside her sex. She was calm and collected, enjoying the throbbing power of the phallic device between her legs, the experienced caresses of the hands of many a shiny slave, and the echoing sound of flutes that filled the whole edifice with echoes that gave no real indication of their origins.
Suddenly she called for a slave, her voice a language of moans and groans of pleasure. She made the slave act as a chair for her to recline on. Then other slaves joined in, forming a throne of living latex and carried her into a room where a single male slave was chained to the wall, his encased head touching the floor and his boot-wearing feet grazing the ceiling. The hooded lady had her slaves carry her to this specially bound creature; she stared at it for a while before she extended to touch the creature's latex face...
---- 0 ----
Valeria realized someone was shaking her as she opened her eyes and returned to the realm of the waking. Her father was smiling at her. She closed her eyes again and groggily said she wished to continue sleeping; but her father shook her once more and told her they were already home. Valeria rubbed her eyes and looked, with happiness, at the two storey house; she smiled at the familiar sights and got out of the car.
She asked her father about her bags as the sound of their heels echoed on ceramic. He told her that they were already inside and that she should only worry about sleeping. Soon they were going up the stairs and Valeria wondered when they crossed the kitchen and living room; she stopped thinking about it as she saw her old bed, still the same as she left it years ago, and remembered the strange dream she had, discovering that she kind of enjoyed it.
Soft blankets and caring hands caressed her naked skin, leading her towards another dream of rubber and submission and faceless slaves. Valeria found it strange that this was what coursed through her mind; but soon she found herself cuddling on the bed, her father kissing her forehead. Valeria felt the blankets rubbing against her naked skin and her ballet boots. Her mind barely registered the latter.
She heard the click-clack of her father's heels move around the room. He was fidgeting with her old stereo and suddenly soothing music began to fill the room. Valeria brought her legs closer to her chest and mindlessly rubbed her ballet boots with a hand before she fell asleep. Dreams of rubber and submission and a world where chocolate is toxic began to crawl inside her mind.
---- 0 ---
Shiny human figures acted as walls and ceiling to the long and dark hallway. It extended on both sides beyond the infinite, a song of moans of pleasure and groans of obedience echoed above the almost inaudible hum of flutes and drums and violins. Somewhere in it, the distinctive sound of heels meeting with cold, hard floor were the centrepiece for a symphony of pleasure. A tall woman dressed in a bright purple latex gown walked down the hallway; two slaves carry the long, cape-like hem of her veil from which many a black-latex-clad slave are born.
The proud woman - a mistress - heard her slaves moan and struggle against their bonds, all wishing to touch and worship their Mistress's body as she passed before them. One slave in particular, a slender man with no features and with latex skin darker than night, moaned in a peculiar way that made the Mistress turn her head towards him. She extended her purple hand and touched the slave's cheek, whispering something in a language made of emotions. The slave sighed, his body weakening at her touch, the chains binding him to the wall loosened. The slave hung limp from the wall, chains holding his hands backwards and his hip in place; his feet never touched the ground and his face dared not look at his Mistress.
The Mistress smiled a featureless smile as hundred more slaves crawled out of her dress, their first breath into the world made only of submission. She placed her hand upon the slave's groin and whispered...
Cold water fell on Valeria's body taking with it the most concrete parts of her dream. Every drop and every stream of cold, delicious water took away part of her dream until she was left with only the enjoyment of her dream. Valeria knew that it was a dream of rubber and submission, a dream of the lifestyle she had avoided with all her heart, and yet she knew that she had loved and enjoyed it. Valeria felt both disgusted at herself and she was curious and aching to figure out how to make the dream a reality.
Valeria finished showering and walked back to her room where she saw, placed over her bed sheets, a black rubber skirt and a red rubber top - another of her mother's attempts to make Valeria join and indulge in their little fetish world. Valeria ignored the clothes and dressed, as to mock her mother, in a skirt and a top not of rubber and, of course, her ballet boots. Valeria realized her room, no, the house was cold - too cold actually. She walked out of her room, past a white hallway and down a beige flight of stairs, the artificial coldness making her feel not at home.
Valeria saw her mother's head outline protruding out of a couch. She quietly, as quietly one can walk with towering ballet heels, walked towards her.
"Hey, mama," Valeria said, "Say, why is this place so cold?"
"Buenos d’as, Valeria," Maria said, a disappointed look upon he rubber-encased features as she saw her daughter's clothes, "Oh, we had a central air conditioning system installed. You know, it's more comfortable to be encased when it's chillier."
"More ways to be kinky, I see," Valeria said as she stared at her mother's new outfit and click-clacked towards one of the many leather sofas in the room, "You are only going to wear rubber while I am here, right?" She sighed as she sat in front of her kinky mother.
"Of course, Latexia," Maria said with a smile meant to disarm her daughter, "I only wear rubber now."
As usual, Maria was encased rubber, her body hugged by a thin-layered, skin-colour catsuit, her head encased in a thick hood with welder-styled goggles. Over her second skin she wore a crimson-and-blue outfit made out of a corset, shoulder-length gloves, a bikini top, a pair of latex trousers and a leather belt.
"No matter what you call me, mom, I am not going to wear rubber." Valeria said, emphasising every word. "Nice try with today's outfit. I wonder what you'll do tomorrow." Valeria said sarcastically.
"Oh, you'll see," Maria said, "You'll see. Tomorrow'll be different."
Valeria rolled her eyes and ignored her mother's attempt at being cryptic, "Anyway, I got you some gifts. Where are my bags?"
"Over there," Valeria's mother turned around and pointed towards the bags in the dining room.
Valeria silently stood up and walked towards her bags, the clicking of heels not registering in her mind. She opened her plastic bags and began to rummage around the mess of clothes and plastic bags. While she was distracted, her father, who had spent half the morning working on his studio, came into the living room, the click-clack of his heels a noise no one really notices. He was wearing a blend of his fetishes, his feet were clad in a pair of latex ballet boots and a pair of black-coloured pantyhose - something his wife had insisted for so long and he now found himself enjoying. He was wearing a latex bodysuit that covered everything from his mid-tights to his neck; over these he sported a latex harness with three metallic hoops over his torso and one metallic collar that immobilized his neck. His head was covered by a heavy rubber hood that instead of holes it had zippers all around; two small ones where his nostrils were, one over each eye, and one zipper over where his mouth would've be seen if it wasn't for the padlock keeping said zipper tightly closed.
Carlos tapped Valeria's shoulder and smiled a lost smile. Valeria kept rummaging through her bags and slowly turned her head around; the smile she had on her face disappeared as her eyes went wide and she lost her balance, her left hand supporting all of her weight and crushing something inside her bag.
"Papa!" She cried, staring at her father's encased face with a wide-eyed, open-mouthed look on her face.
Carlos greeted her daughter, but the thickness of his rubber hood only allowed a muffled sound reminiscent of a snorting pig to be heard.
"What?" Valeria breathed, her frown taking a confused look.
Carlos waved his head around and rolled his eyes before bringing his right hand close to the padlock keeping his mouth shut, with his left hand he introduced the small key that dangled from his wrist into the padlock and removed it. He unzipped the hood and took a deep breath before saying:
"I said: Good morning. How did you sleep?"
Valeria, her eyes still twitching and her mouth slightly opened, turned towards her mother, who, seeing her Master walk into the room, was now kneeling on the floor with a smile upon her face. Valeria realized just how wide her eyes could go.
"You just keep getting freakier and freakier," Valeria said, turning her head from her rubber mother to her latex father.
Carlos, seeing his daughter's inability to respond a simple answer, frowned and placed his naked hands on his latex waist.
"Don't you call us freaks, Valeria," Carlos said in a most authoritative tone, his deep voice resonating in the room and making his wife tremble with excitement, "I taught you to respect other people's tastes and life styles, and I taught you never to mock people. Correct yourself!?"
Valeria stared at her father, her crouching position giving him that more of a towering and powerful figure and making her remember years ago when her father, dressed in similar outfits, scolded her.
"I am sorry..." Valeria said, averting her eyes from her dominant father.
""I am sorry" what?" Said the rubber father.
"I am sorry, Sir," Valeria said submissively.
"That's better, Latexia," Smiled Carlos, "Now, answer the question."
"Good. I had a good night." Said Valeria, her face not looking at her father but at the spirals she mindlessly drew on the tiled floor.
"Glad. You were pretty tired after the trip and you slept for over twelve hours," Said Carlos with a smile before he turned and walked towards his kneeling and obedient wife.
Valeria smiled and continued looking for the gifts in question. Meanwhile, her parents simply hugged in a living embrace and whispered conspiratory words to each other.
Eventually Valeria brought them two items wrapped in a red cloth. As if a ceremony, her parents changed position; Carlos, naturally, sat on the highest chair and Maria kneeled on the floor, her hand idly caressing her husband and master's thighs. Valeria unwrapped the gifts, showing her father a glass jar filled with a light brown paste with the word "Arequipe" printed on front.
"Arequipe!" Cried Carlos in delight, "This is exactly what I wanted! Thank you, Valeria."
Valeria smiled, loving her father's exaggerated reaction. He knew very well that she was going to bring him some "arequipe".
She then turned her attention to the two remaining items, unwrapped a big, clear crystal bottle with a wide bottom and a thin neck.
"Here you go, mama," Valeria said as she handed the bottle to her mother, "One bottle of pisco and, as you asked me..." She juggled the remaining item out of the cloth, "And a set of videos describing the whole of Peru's underground fetish scene."
"Gracias," Whispered Maria, staring at her gifts with joy on her face.
Satisfied with her parents' reactions, Valeria sat on one of the leather chairs in front of them; her eyes wandered over their fetish-wear with a mix of curiosity and restrain. Her recent dreams had left a strange urge to try and join her family with their games. This urge, as contrary as it was to her wishes and mindset, felt awfully familiar, as if it had always been there but was reawakened.
Valeria was thinking of her dream, of how it left her aching to experience the fetish realm. She was trying to figure out why she was dreaming these dreams; had she not, during the course of her childhood, watched her parents dress in rubber and latex and bondage and never had an erotic-fetishist dream? Or she did have dreams of the kind, but was made to forget them. Valeria was trying to figure out, also, why the new feelings that were starting to crawl their way inside her head and heart as if newborn lizards out of their shells felt not new, but old and dormant.
"Where's Geronimo?" Valeria suddenly asked, remembering, in between the haze of her thoughts, the existence of her younger brother.
Her parents stared at her with soft eyes and knowing smiles; her father's eyes framed by zipper-teeth and her mother's covered by a layer of rubber. They gave an air of trust meant to disarm and distract Valeria from their ulterior machinations.
Valeria knew that their parents were planning something, she knew that they were only taking their time to answer because the truth and reality is something that would make their daughter feel something similar to surprise or close to distraught.
"Oh, he's around," Eventually said Maria matter-of-factly.
"But... where is he? I haven't seen him around nor have I heard his usual noises," Valeria said.
"He is in his room," Maria said softly, one hand rubbing the length of her white rubber trousers. "He spends most of his time there now days."
"I didn't see him in his room," Valeria responded, "Now that I think about it, I didn't even see his room. Whatever happened to his stuff?"
"Oh, he moved to the old guest's room next to the playroom," Added Carlos.
"But he hates people!" Valeria cried with disbelief, "And that playroom is where you meet your clients. New people everyday! I mean, he doesn't even like to talk to strangers and you always have strangers playing in that room."
"It has been a year and odd months since you last saw him, dear. He is changed." Maria said with a singsong voice.
"Sounds like it!" Valeria said in the tone that one uses when simply acknowledging a very unlikely fact.
"He has found a new hobby that really, ehm, brings us closer," said Maria. She turned her head towards her husband and master, with a longing smile and a submissive stare, "Can I stand, Carlos? I wish to show Latexia Fet- eh, Geronimo's room."
Carlos smiled, his features showing from the zipper holes on his hood, "You may stand, Maria," He whispered, his stare on his daughter.
Maria the obedient slave, stood up, and walked towards the astounded Valeria. She placed a gloved hand on her daughter and slightly squished her shoulder. "Come on," She cocked her head to the side. Reluctantly yet curiously, Valeria stood and began to follow her mother towards the guest's room. As Valeria walked and wondered what was this new hobby her brother had found, her mind wandered back to her dream. Somewhere, deep inside her consciousness, Valeria wished her dream had somehow become a reality and that her brother was one of the endless slaves.
"Don't tell me Geronimo is now part of your kinky games." Valeria said with a smirk and a frown, hiding her wishes.
"Oh, of course, sweetie," Said Maria with that happy, singsong voice, "Unlike you, Geronimo embraced our games and even shares his own kinks with us, which, by the way, are quite numerous and... deviant." Valeria could see that her mother was softly shaking her ample bosom and rubbing her thighs together.
The two click-clacked past a long hallway before reaching the fabled door that led into the den of, in Valeria's words, erotica and bondage. Valeria found herself looking at the door with a newfound interest; gone was the fear and scarring memories of her youth, replaced were they with a dream-derived intrigue. Her dreams and the echoing music in them filled Valeria with an expecting tingle of excitement - she ached to see whatever implements, whatever outfits and devices were behind that door.
A strong smell invaded Valeria's nostrils, it was the familiar scent of latex and rubber and some things Valeria wished not to name. The smell was strange on her nose, at first; but as she got accustomed to it she realized she quite liked it. Valeria found that she found the smell erotic even...
She shook her head abruptly, chastising herself from the invasive thoughts.
Valeria was led into a room with white, high ceilings and a black-painted floor, the walls were coated by a thick layer of rubber, at parts, and where it was not chains and bondage devices were neatly secured to the hard concrete. The wide room had three doors, two of which led into walk-in closets filled, stacked, cramped with many a fetish outfit of all forms, make, style and taste, outfits made to indulge any and all forms of fetish. The third door, an almost indistinguishable marking on the rubber wall, led into Geronimo's room.
Valeria looked at the walk-in closet, able to peer into them through the half-open division. She could see some latex catsuits of different forms and some other simpler, yet erotic, outfits; Valeria felt her something move inside her, aching to go in there and try some of the outfits. Dum dad um, the drums echoed and the flutes sang inside her head.
"Geronimo moved into the adjoining room," Said Maria, her singsong voice echoing a sound Valeria knew she had heard before. "He likes living next to this room."
"It's just... I don't know. It is strange for him," Valeria responded. Singing, her mother was singing to a tune; she realized.
Maria opened the rubber door, a smile hidden behind layers. Chains dangling from the ceiling and walls, sexual appliances of all sorts all over the place, a bed and chairs coated in latex, a closet filled with latex outfits... that's what Valeria prepared to see inside her brother's room, instead she saw only a normal-looking room with a normal-looking bed on which a not-so-normal-looking person sat playing a videogame.
Geronimo, Valeria thought as she immediately saw her brother's trick of abruptly extending his left hand outwards then pulling it back, slowly, letting it stay there for a fraction of a second before he quickly moved it back to the controller whenever he died in a videogame. Valeria felt the warmness of affection fill her as she recognized her brother; and she also felt her eyes go wide and a quick breath enter her lungs through her mouth as she saw what her brother was wearing: a skin-colour zentai suit covered his whole body, transforming him into a mannequin look-alike; no naked skin could be seen nor any feature save his height and slenderish built.
"Fetishdoll," Maria whispered, tapping her ballet heels on the floor three times. Valeria's attention diverted from her brother and quickly turned towards her mother.
"Fetishdoll?" Valeria whispered in a tone so low that she might as well have not said anything.
Fetishdoll turned his encased head towards his mother, "Yes, Mistress Mother?" Said Fetishdoll submissively as he dropped his game controller on the bed and shifted to a kneeling position, a smile outlined by the spandex layer on his face.
"Here, Fetishdoll, look who's back home!" Maria chirped with excitement. She quickly, too quickly for Valeria to notice, wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her.
"Latexia!" Fetishdoll cried out in joy. He never shifted his submissive kneeling.
Shock; that was what Valeria felt at the moment. Shock and amazement and utter unbelief. She could not take in the sight of her brother in a fetish garment and in a kneeling-submissive position. She just couldn't.
Her brother, the boy she knew that detested authority figures, the boy that despised to be told what to do, the boy that always was at the head of any group, the boy that commanded and barked orders, her brother the dominant and leader. The sight went against everything Valeria knew about Geronimo; though, she never really knew Geronimo for starters. She never realized that her brother actually despised being in power, that he loathed the responsibility of the imposed dominant personality everyone around him had forced him to develop; Valeria was oblivious to her brother's pain and struggle and once she left her hearth she completely lost contact with him, leaving him alone to fall into his own wishes and dreams and inducted fantasies.
"Geronimo?" Valeria managed to say with a raspy voice, her right hand moving around her wine-coloured hair before slowly going down her neck, "Is that you?"
"I am Fetishdoll now, Latexia," Said Fetishdoll, softly.
"Do stand and show us today's outfit, Fetishdoll," Said Maria.
Dum da dum, Valeria heard as her mother spoke. She was about to say what outfit? but, somehow, as if her mind had blocked its existence, as if something had blocked her perception of it, Valeria realized her brother was wearing more than a simple zentai suit.
Fetishdoll bowed and said: "As you wish, Mistress Mother." He stood next to bed and it was then that Valeria could really appreciate the whole of his outfit.
Fetishdoll made a gesture that brought Valeria's attention to the bright yellow, one-piece latex bodysuit - a yellow too bright for Valeria to miss unless her perception was played with - with an open crotch that covered his upper body; over this he wore three metal hoops chained to each other and to his neck and upper thighs and to a pair of metal armlets, which were locked by silver padlocks. Like all members of his family, his feet were locked in a pair of yellow ballet boots; each leather strap was locked by small silver padlocks.
He did a little spin, his movements graceful in his heels, and showed his perfect, latex-clad behind to his mother and sister.
"How lovely, Fetishdoll!" Maria cried with glee. "I love today's choice!" The praise made Fetishdoll moan audibly.
"Thank you, Mistress," Fetishdoll said, his body shaking with arousal.
Valeria stood there, unable to move or to speak or to do anything. She was afraid. Valeria feared the image before her. She knew exactly how her parents lived, hell, she even had experienced firsthand the many ways they tried to convince her to join them in the kinky ways. But she never gave in, partly to defy them, partly because she was afraid she would loose herself to the pleasure and kink and would never be able to lead a normal life. Seeing the end product, what her parents wished her to become, was terrifying.
"Mom... What... what have you done?" Valeria cried, pushed her mother away and walked away from the shuddering doll of a brother.
"Latexia..." Maria whispered.
"No! Do not call me Latexia! That's not my name!" Valeria turned around to scream at her mother and continued to run in her towering heels. "That's not my name." She whispered. Dum da dum.
"Latexia..." Maria said softly as she followed her daughter; her face showed worry but her features were that of a faceless doll.
Fetishdoll wanted to follow his mistress and his sister; he wanted to tell her just how liberated he felt and how happy he was at being Fetishdoll. But he couldn't; after all, he was simply an obedient and submissive doll. He could not do anything unless ordered, he could not act unless told to; such was his submissive need.
So, Fetishdoll simply stood there, by his bed, shuddering in the afterwaves of praise-induced pleasure and the thought that his real mistress had finally come for him.
"Lat- Valeria, let me explain! He wanted this," Maria said, "He wanted to experience it, and he wanted to be completely submissive! He wanted to get rid of the burden! We just helped him!"
Valeria said nothing as she went into the terrace.
"You brainwashed him, that's what you did!" Valeria yelled as she supported her weight on the terrace's iron bars, "God! You did it... You finally did it!"
Trembling with anger and indignation and feeling all of her insides shake at the thoughts of her mother brainwashing her brother - a thought that, deep inside, made her sexually excited. Valeria hugged the iron bars framing the terrace, failing to notice the sound of flutes and drums and violins coming from the four speakers on the terrace's ceiling. Dum da dum.
"Valeria, it's no different from what we did to you," Maria said in a soothing voice, "And you've never being against that."
Valeria's eyes widened, her hands slowly unclasped the iron, "What you did to me..." She quoted, "What did you do to me, mama?" She whispered, fear cracking her voice.
"You- You don't know, Valeria?" Said Maria as she neared her daughter, "The weekly calls, the need, the moans... the pleasure. You don't remember them?"
Valeria stared with a quizzical look upon her face, "Weekly calls? Moans? What are you talking about!?"
"The calls, Valeria. Once a week you would call us and masturbate, be it either on video or the phone." Said Maria matter-of-factly, her sex reacting to the erotic memory of her daughter's moans of pleasure.
It can't be true, Valeria thought. There was no way she would call her parents and masturbate in the phone. To let them, to let anyone hear her depravity and moans of sheer ecstasy as she used any of the toys she kept at home was unthinkable, unbelievable even.
But Valeria found it to be truth. She remembered, then, all the calls, all the time she spent before her webcam with her legs open and a vibrator stuck inside her. The barriers had been removed, a torrent of memories flooded Valeria's mind.
"No... No!" She cried, "I can't be! How... how did I forget all about it? How could I forget that kind of thing!?"
"When you were around fifteen your kinks were starting to wake, Valeria," Maria said with a smile as she sat on chair. She partially ignored her daughter's reaction. "Seeing how comfortable it was to all of us to relate such things you always told us what excited you and what didn't."
The soothing flutes and drums and violins began to slowly fill Valeria's ears; soothing voices relaxing her anger and opening her mind. Dum da dum.
"One day you told us you thought you had a mind control fetish," Maria said softly, almost whispered, one hand conveniently located over her thigh and another gracing her latex chest, "That the idea of being hypnotized aroused you. You even asked us to get you some mind control erotica."
Valeria remembered. Her mother's words acted as triggers to memories long lost. She could see herself as a teenager, asking her parents to buy her porn instead of clothes or toys; and she could remember just how extremely aroused she got the day her parents gave her the mind control videos.
"One day, after a couple of months of immersing yourself into the world of mind control erotica, you asked us if we could somehow trance you," Maria said, an inaudible moan escaping her lips as one of her hands found her encased sex. "So we researched and trained ourselves to please our daughter and ensure that she would be as kinky as possible."
"Wha- What did you do?" Valeria said tentatively.
"At first it just gave you small subliminals, increasing some of your kinks and partly giving you that liking for ballet boots," Maria said.
The boots suddenly felt tight on Valeria's legs; she realized really how tall the heel was and the shape her feet took. Dum da dum.
Maria's words took Valeria back to the hypnosis sessions she had as a kid. She saw herself, her parents dressed in their kinky outfits, the soothing sound of drums, flutes and violins.... Her nether lips moistened. She squished her legs together, bringing a small jolt of pleasure out of her sex.
"What... What else did you do?" Valeria said, her upper teeth softly munching her lower lip empathically.
"One day I decided to try something more interesting. I told your father I wanted to give you a trigger word." Said Maria, her voice inaudible behind the moans, "Your father then decided to give you a masturbation trigger word. We then hypnotized you so you would have this craving to masturbate in front of us - be it phone or otherwise - once a week; hell, we even had you fall under whenever you did that."
Dum da dum, the music echoed throughout the terrace and within Valeria's mind, mixing with her mother's words and digging up memories she had forgotten or made to forget. She could see it clearly, now, all the calls, all the moans, all the trances she went in after starting to masturbate with the phone held over her ear by her shoulder.
Her fingers crawled down her chest and rested just over her covered sex.
"I like to fuck myself," Valeria remembered a mantra. Her eyes were glazing over as her hand began to rub her sex.
"Yes, Latexia," Maria said, her own hand imitating her daughter, and a smile on her face, "You like to fuck yourself ."
Valeria shook her head but didn't stop masturbating, "What... What's going on?" She said in a dreamy voice, the music filling her mind and relaxing her mind. Dum da dum.
"You are masturbating in front of you mother, darling," Maria moaned, "That would put you under right away."
Valeria knew her mother's words were true, they always were. Masturbating in front of her would put her under a trance and it excited her. She wanted to fight it, to hate what her mother was doing- had been doing for years, but she only found herself falling under and deeper, her own kink betraying her. The memories from all her previous trances returned and helped her ease into the delicious nothing.
The sound of heels meeting concrete echoes from the open door that leads into the house; the two women are far too concentrated on their own pleasure to notice Carlos walk out of the house and into the terrace.
"Look like you two are having fun," Said Carlos. He placed his hand on his wife's shoulder. "And it seems like Latexia is ready."
"Yes, Carlos" Maria moaned, "She is under, ready for us to remake her."
"No need to rush things, Maria," Carlos said, "We can still have fun with her before we make her into the perfect domme."
"Yes, Carlos," Maria moaned, her stare upon her husband's hardening member.
I love to fuck myself, Valeria thought in the same rhythm as the music. She was lost in her little realm.
Carlos grabbed a chair and sat next to his wife. His hand moved on hers, halting his wife's self-pleasuring, and guided it to where his sex was.
"Latexia," Carlos whispered at his daughter, his voice levelled and relaxing. The music he had used for years, the music he had created, the music carrying hypnotic patterns filled the house. "Your name is Latexia."
Valeria's eyes lacked emotion and her devoid of resistance.
"Your name is Latexia," Maria insisted, "You are a dominant woman. You are a domme."
"You love rubber and latex," Carlos said, "Nylon and lace and bondage. You are Latexia, you are a domme."
Valeria was an open book, too. She couldn't help it, she was tranced. Her fetish and her parents' experience transported her into a world where her mind was nothing but an open book. She took it all in, all the words, all that was said, and made it into her reality.
"Latexia loves to dominate and dress in latex and rubber," Carlos moaned. His wife rubbed his penis.
"Latexia loves to be kinky and in control," Maria whispered, her voice breaking with moans.
"Latexia loves to be kinky and in control," Valeria's voice said.
"You are Latexia," Reiterated Carlos, his hips pushing against his wife's fingers.
"I am Latexia," Valeria breathed, her hips were starting to buckle.
"You love latex and rubber and all fetishes," Whispered Maria.
"I love latex and rubber and all fetishes," Valeria moaned, hard.
"You are Latexia, you are a domme," Carlos groaned as his wife's hand began to tremble in a way that pushed him over the edge. He moaned and writhed in his encasing clothes as his penis pumped his seed into the special sheath covering it.
The sound of pleasing her master forced Maria to orgasm. She felt his penis spasm under her fingers and go limp as the material felt hotter and squishy inside. Her body rocked with obedience and pleasure - synonyms to one another.
"I am Latexia!" Latexia screamed as an orgasm shattered her whole being and sent her mind into a numb, mindless state, the soothing sound of flutes and drums filling her. Dum da dum.
Valeria drifted into dreams, exhausted and whispering the words her parents had breathed into her mind.
Soon Carlos and Maria recuperated from their mutual orgasm and stood.
"What do we do now, Master Carlos?" Maria whispered as she placed her latex hands upon her husband's encased chest.
"We take her to the room and completely transform her into the perfect Domme," Carlos said as he kissed his wife's lips, "And then we can finally enjoy life. Next time we don't make them into an extremely dependent subbie."
"Hmm... very well, Master," Maria moaned, rubbing her body against her Master, "It is true, though. Fetishdoll is too submissive for his own good."
Part 2: The Dominant Sister
The coach was blue and it shone under the red moonlight; it was made of completely of metal and rubber, with chains clinging as it moved, with spikes protruding out of the wheels and roof. Inside the coach was a lady, dressed fancily, with a latex cowl covering her features, and a rubber, one-piece swimsuit styled suit; her legs were clad in fishnet stockings and a pair of ballet boots.
In front of her was a male slave sitting between two female drones. The drones held each a metal bar with her hand opposite to the slave. The metal bars belonged to a thick rubber cylindrical appliance designed to trap the slave's arms on a cross over his chest. The rest of his body was covered by a similar material, but instead of being uniform in colour, waves and stars danced on his latex skin.
The latex creatures pulled the coach forwards, through a landscape where human bodies replaced trees and rocks. Suddenly it stops and the lady inside comes out, her figure a mighty one. Her slave and drones follow her, their heads hung low in submission.
The lady whistles and speaks in her pleasure-language, a song that made all the trees and all the rocks shift from their position and walk towards her in orderly lines, as if a marching army, as if mindless. Soon they reached the lady and her envoy and kneeled before her, their bodies shaking with pleasure.
The latex stood, legs parted, her sex pushed forwards. She told the thousand of latex human-creatures to walk, one by one, and kiss her sex, deeply. She then had her drones and personal slave kneel parallel to her and ordered them to stare only at the kisses.
The red moon climbed the dark sky and then descended it, many times. Days passed, weeks, months and the lines of tree-slaves and rock-slaves seemed more than endless. Eventually the last slave kissed the lady, who by now was a rocking mess of pleasure and near-orgasm bliss.
As soon as the last slave left, the personal slave and the drones walked towards the lady. The two drones kissed their lady, simultaneously. The lady moaned and pressed the drones tightly against her latex flesh, pushing them into her body. The slaves sank into the latex, until nothing was left of them. Finally, the slave kneeled before his mistress and kissed her sex...
------- 0 ------
Valeria woke on her bed, naked and with a slight headache. Did I drink last night, she thought as she got off the bed and stood. The first thing she realized was just how cold the floor was, the second thing was that she was actually feeling the floor with her naked feet. She looked at her feet and cocked her head slightly to the right, a frown upon her brow.
"Where are my boots?" She said out loud wriggling her toes.
The third thing Valeria noticed was that she was naked and that her room was different. She found it strange that she had gone to bed naked, without her usual outfit; and she found it even stranger was how her room was, or how it made her feel. Valeria knew the closet filled with shiny clothes had always been there, but there was something odd about it, something about it felt wrong; the sexual toys neatly ordered over her bookshelf and bed gave her an eerie sensation, as if they were not actually there or never had been, but Valeria could remember them always been there, since she was a teenager. Or were they?
Valeria decided it was best to ignore the weirdness of it.
She took a quick shower and then got dressed. But before she stood outside her room in her new outfit, Valeria took her time choosing it. She fished inside her drawers - drawers that, the day before, had been empty and now were bursting with latex-wear - for underwear, settling for a matching set of purple latex bra and crotchless panties. She looked around her closet and settled, after touching every single outfit three times each, for a one-piece swimsuit style bodysuit and a short, see-through skirt. Then she realized she could make her outfit more interesting with a pair of black pantyhose and shoulder-length latex gloves and a hood with open eyes, mouth and nostrils.
Valeria looked at her ensemble with a smile and then a frown. She felt like she shouldn't be wearing that kind of clothes, she felt a voice tell her that she should wear jeans and shirt instead of latex but Valeria had found nothing but latex and nylon and, well, erotic clothes in her room. She looked at her clothes again and felt a hint of arousal and then it was final.
She descended the stairs feeling the artificial coldness of the house on her completely encased skin. Every step she took sent a thrill through her body, yet again she felt strange: she could swear that thrill felt like a fresh experience, but have she not done this, walking down the stairs dressed in her usual Domme outfit, for years?
Dum da dum, Valeria heard the echo of her favourite song and it was the final time she thought about the strangeness of her situation.
She walked into the living room, like all mornings, and saw her mother kneeling on the latex-covered floor, her forehead touching the floor. Maria was dressed in three layers of latex; one being her skin, the second being her lingerie, and the third being the items replacing her hands for thick balls of latex.
"What are you doing, slave?" Valeria asked, meaning to say mother. She didn't even realize it.
"Awaiting your orders, Mistress Latexia," Maria whispered in a submissive tone, "I've dressed like you ordered and now I humbly ask you to use this slave's body."
"Ordered? What..." Latexia suddenly felt dizzy, a throbbing on her head conflicting with the throbbing in her sex, "Sla... mother," She corrected herself, "What are you talking about? I didn't order you... did I?"
"Yes you did, Mistress Latexia," Maria said, a smile hidden behind her hood, "Today I was to meet you like this."
"I..." Latexia said, feeling the music fill her head and some memories of last night returning, "I did. I..." She moved her eyes towards the kneeling slave. "I am pleased, slave."
Maria shuddered, "I am glad, my Mistress. How may this slave serve you?"
Latexia sat on the chair her mother had used the day before; she crossed her legs, loving how the swish sound of nylon on nylon. She smiled, her red lips enhanced by her encasement. "Bring me a cup of tea, slave," Latexia said, her lips formed into a naughty smile, "Maybe then I'll order you around."
Maria stood and bowed, "Yes, Mistress. As you, Mistress." She hurried, as best as she could, towards the kitchen.
Moments later Maria returned, her head still bowed, and handed her daughter a steaming, white cup with her ball-shaped hands. Latexia took a tentatively sip from the white cup and then put it down on the floor, she stared at her latex mother and slave with eyes that if they expressed something, it was difficult to figure out what did they expressed.