The full-body latex suit seems strangely attractive to you. More than that, it feels like it's calling out to you. Before you know it, you've taken all your clothes off and are approaching the shiny rubber that's on your bed. Why is it there? Who knows? But then again, who cares?
You feel at your neck and back. The zipper is gone, and so are the seams between the hood and the body of the suit. It's your new skin now. And you're now a latex drone, faceless and ready to serve. Now present yourself to me, object.
You slide your arms in next, your skin gliding smoothly beneath the sleek latex as you fill out the suit's fingers with yours. It hugs your arms snugly, almost as if it was made for you. Perhaps it was.
The hood. Where did the hood even come from? Nonetheless, it's sliding over your head, covering your face and hugging your features. You let out a soft moan, getting hard beneath the bulge of your latex crotch.
And before you know it, the zipper on the back of your suit glides upwards, bringing the latex together over your back. Not that you noticed. Or perhaps you just don't care anymore, slowly getting lost in the euphoria of the scent of rubber.
Certainly not you, as you find yourself slipping your legs into the latex sleeves, past your feet, up your calves, and then around your thighs. They squeeze your muscles, bringing out their shiny curves beneath the light.