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My first morning being stuck as a woman in a latex suit.
The game did this to me, and it has completely broken me, I could not even gain the smallest victory over the curse it has placed upon me. Everything I see on the leopard was now a part of me, I loved the leopard in the mirror; the exotic latex wet dream which stood before me, its eyes so inviting, innocent, and gleamed with naughtiness. Then I would hate it for everything it had taken from me, and the unwanted gifts I received in exchange.

I cupped a hand of water and smeared it on my latex cheeks, to clean off the black scars my permanent eyeliner left on my gleaming, spotted face when I attempted to remove it. My fetish heels clicked, and my hefty breasts tested the tight latex stretched thin over my responsive flesh. I wobbled towards the toilet paper roll to dry my face. Strength slowly returned to my legs, weak from the delicious feast of sensations my female body had to offer to my male mind for the first time. The thought of the waves of electrifying bliss flushed my cheeks and renewed the warmth in the moistness where my manhood should have been.
I experimented with how I walked, I tried to avoid using the six inch heel, focusing solely on the ball of my foot, not a good idea. With some hesitation, I stepped forward with the long gleaming black heel, planting it into the ground before stepping forward. With, slow, wobbly, steps the heels brought me to the toilet paper, as I tried to bend my back to reach the toilet paper; I was reminded of my unyielding corset, tears gathered behind my eyes waiting for my emotional dam to burst, but I stayed strong. I bend my knees, a slow creaking came from the skin of my joints as my body lowered. I steadied my balance on my heels before reaching out for my reward.

My latex skin gave irritating squeaks as I returned to an upright position. I bury my irritation and return to the mirror with cautious clicks from my heels, one black glossy heel in front of the other. Keeping my legs together and reducing my stride helped with balance. I watched my sexy leopard body move closer towards the mirror gleaming in the light, looking up helped with my balance more. With the balance came an enticing feline sway in my hips, I was sickened at how feminine I had become, but if it came to swaying my hips or being winded again, the choice was obvious. I straightened my back, pushing my breasts out, my second skin stretches to prevent my breasts from escaping, teasing my nipples. With that, I’ve done it, I’ve found my center of balance.

The sense of achievement quickly turned into more despair as I was no closer to retrieving my manhood. Fresh tears leaked from the leopard’s dark eyes. I dabbed the paper over the it’s human skin surrounding its eye, to avoid spreading water to the corrupting black eyeliner, creating more of a mess than before. With a few more sobs and dabs of the paper , prefect, the leopard did not look like an upset goth anymore. She was a latex vixen again, save the slightly red puffy eyes. My mind retaliated, reminding me who the leopard was. NO, I didn’t WANT to be a latex vixen, this isn’t NORMAL. I reached down to turn off the tap, and realized that my polished, red nails were not damaged from the campaign against the latex. Not the slightest dent, scratch or damage to the coloring. NO, this too? I already knew the answer deep within me, that this has also become a permanent part of my new twisted body. Yet the nails attacked each other in the running water, emerging unscathed. I wrapped my fingers around the tap, staring at the light reflecting off of my manicured nails, and turned off the water.

The leopard`s gaze was blank, as our eyes met, blank like my mind. The latex had imprisoned me, took my identity away, broke me, it has won. My mind was blank, as butterflies slowly settled into my stomach, a sickly feeling, stirring in my abdomen. There was also a heavy feeling around the same area, a downwards feeling, like a kind of pressure… leading to the crotch area. It wasn`t the heat I felt before, but- then it hit me. I needed to relive myself.

No, this can`t be, the latex has me completely sealed in. My newly realized sensation increased in pressure, I haven`t gone since last night, and the struggle against my new skin had me distracted, I did not realize the need to relieve myself. My mind raced as I began to panic, did I have to wet myself because I was trapped in this suit? But that would mean I would be trapped in my own waste? Should I go or hold it? But how long could I hold it for until I went? How was I holding it in? How do I release it?

My hand slid in between my legs, gentling resting the fingers over my smooth latex crotch, hoping my hand would be able to sooth the pressure building in my bladder. I did not dare to stroke the area, as the consequences were still fresh in my mind, though I would like to try it again, it would not help my current situation. My fingers felt a sort of dampness, from the center of the crease lining my crotch. Another finger went to the crease to investigate, and met with the same moist feeling.

“PLEASE let there be some sort of opening”, my alluring female voice begged. My blind fingers slid, scraped, plucked, at latex seam, causing more moisture to emerge. The fondling of my sex, and an anticipation of what had come before excited me, as my nipples began to harden under the latex. A series different strategies failed to reveal an opening, until several of my fingers cooperated together. A few fingers wormed its way past the flaps of latex covering a hidden track. Its with barely half of the width of my pinky, and the moisture lazily emerging from beneath it. My pinky made its way up the track, gathering a film of moisture as it progressed. At the end of the track, the seam ended as well. Was this some sort of drainage system for my waste? I pushed my pinky forward, into where the folds of latex met and became one.

There was something hard within its tight confines, as I pushed deeper to investigate, it strained the track, stimulating me when its roughness met with sensitive tissue. I twitched with the sudden shock, and the nail on my pinky caught onto something, the object stuck under the latex folds. My other fingers attempted to create more space by spreading the flaps wider, but the unwanted excitement it brought me made me stop. I pulled with my pinky, and could feel my nail pulling off from the strain, until it gave and was freed from the latex flaps. I pulled my hand out to where I could see it, and inspected my pinky, doesn’t seem to be peeling off. My fingers were coated in a thin transparent slick, which sparkled in the light.

I brought my fingers close to its face, and the leopard’s nose twitched, picking up a musky, but sweet sent, one that will cause males to fight over the rights to breed with her. Before its hand could retreat the leopard’s tongue emerged, twisting shyly as it approached the hand. Do it, I told the leopard in the mirror, anxious to be aroused by this action. The leopard slowly placed two of its fingers together on its feline tongue, and its tongue retreated back behind its glossy lips.
The leopard closed its eyes as its tongue began to distribute the exotic taste in my mouth. The image of the leopard licking its lubricious fingers caused me to shudder, and another pressure began to build in my crotch. My soiled fingers wormed its way past the latex flaps, and found where it has left off. The flesh of my finger followed the track to my discovery. There was a small sphere, no larger than a ball of lint on new clothes. Using my increasingly useful nail on my pinky, I caught the ball under my nail and picked at it, hoping to remove the plug, or button, or whatever it was. I plucked at it a few more times, but the plug didn’t come out.

It seems the latex has won again, somehow I knew I wasn’t going get what I wanted, after all the other defeats, it was only natural that this would not go my way… The bladder was urging to be released. “I guess, I have to go in the suit.” I said defeated, hoping a voice would comfort me. I guess I would just have to wait for it to slowly drip out from the seam. My hand retreated from the seam, but my pinky was still caught on the ball, twisting my finger in an awkward position, until the tension from my finger forced the ball down the track.

I opened my eyes and looked downwards, as if I could see what was going on past my protruding breasts. I could feel a sliver of cool air touch my unchartered region. I scrambled to find the ball again, and with my pinkie I pulled downward, from the front of my crotch towards my spine. It was a ZIPPER! I hoped that the zipper would go all the way up my back, and free me from this latex prison, but the track ended just after my moist slit, a zipper built specially to seal in my new genitals. I mashed the zipper into the end a couple of times, hoping it would create more track so I could escape this nightmare. I continued along the crevice between my legs, and followed the latex caving in. I hit an area where the latex converged, I attempted to continue, but realized I was about to enter my rear opening, the latex perfectly contouring to every detail of my anus.
A sudden realization sent a chill down my latex covered spine, disappearing into my firm corset. What IF I got out of this second skin? What then? I had become a woman underneath this latex, I couldn’t claw my way out of these breasts, my indestructible nails, the permanent makeup, the room sped up into a slow spin. Maybe I could hide the lack of my manhood, and resume my life as my former self, but I could never hide these breasts for long, as a matter of fact, I didn’t even know if I even resembled myself under my feline mask, my mind continued to race, speeding up the room to a blur. The rampaging butterflies in my stomach migrated into my throat.

I looked towards the toilet, and stumbled towards it, desperate and unbalanced, my breasts danced to the hectic rhythm of my heels, a constant reminder of my womanhood, adding to my despair. I half tripped on my heels, ending up on my knees just before the wet butterflies emerged for their first flight. I embraced the bowl with outstretched arms, my latex arms providing a comforting grip on the bowl. The butterflies burst into flames as they poured out of my throat, leaving the distinct stinging aftertaste of vomit. I could feel tears again, it was no use holding them back, so I let them out. Crying seemed to put me at ease, sort out my confusion, so I indulged myself on that cold bathroom floor in front of the toilet. The offensive scent from the bowl had overpowered the latex one I had become accustomed to, so I flushed the toilet. I watched my tears blend with the murky swirl, black drops among a whirlpool of beige yellow. A piece of my dinner surfaced, and I made the connection that this was my own body, transformed overnight into this spotted feline.

I put my hands on the toilet seat, and flicked it down, my body squealed as I turned to sit down. The latex had really gotten under my skin, each squeak reminded me of the latex infecting my body, with no way of removing it, let alone regaining my manhood. At this point, I didn’t care about the constant flow of tears, I never realized how good it felt to let my emotions flow, it washed away my problems, more importantly it cleared my head. I tried to relax myself, as I did when I needed to relieve myself with my manhood. Curiosity finally won over and I stretched my head forward to try to catch a glimpse of my new sex; I noticed the same clear ooze from my fingers ran down the insides of my thighs, its liquid trails curving downwards, bowing to gravity.

Aside from my breathing, heavy solid drips can be heard frequently, I leaned forward, to look into the toilet bowl, though sitting allowed me to see a lot more of what was going on beneath my breasts, they still blocked a part of my vision. I crossed both my breasts with my unsoiled arm, and forced them back, my latex nipples rubbing against the latex on my forearm, causing me to breathe deep, forcing the nipples into my arm. I squirmed a bit, but my latex ass held onto the seat, while the rest of my body squeaked. The dripping became more rapid as I shifted my legs, then returned to its regular pace.
With my breasts confined, I could see the flaps which encased my new crotch. I watched as a milky drip hit the toilet water, and spread like smoke. The water had become quite murky, with another drip following closely.

The cum was trapped inside of me while the zipper was closed, and now it was being released after the seal was removed. Why was I still not peeing? My breasts were slowly winning against my tiring arm, I renewed my strength, and fought back, slowly this time, so I would not stimulate my latex nipples. The slow pressure still built up heat in my crotch, and the dripping sounds became more rapid. I closed my thighs instinctively, as my arm began to move in a circular motion, arousing my sensitive nipples. My soiled hand approached the source of the leak, excited by the mysteries it was about to uncover.
The fingers spread the latex lips, and continued inside. With the latex skin of my crotch opened, and my latex nipples grinding on my latex arm, the dripping became more constant.

My arm sunk deep into my breasts as my fingers past the lips which I could feel. I closed my eyes as ecstasy wiped my mind blank. My mouth dropped open on its own, sounds that I would never make willingly, a majority of the sounds beginning with the letter “AAaaaa”, and trailing off into gasps for air. I curled my fingers, and I hit something that made me jump and produce “Ooo” sounds. It was not deep within me, just upwards. I slid my nail in between some flaps of skin, its sharp edge struck a stub of flesh, and the jolt of pleasure from before returned to my body. My passionate note resonated within the bathroom, as i began to scratch at the stub, as I did with the ball on the zipper.
The hand entertaining my breasts dropped, deciding to focus on one nipple. Two red nails seized nipple in between, its latex casing giving the nipples perfect grip, and twisted the nipple; my under hand simultaneously buried the razor nail into the center of the stub. As the insides of my crotch flooded, I shrieked with the voice of a cat who’s tail was violated, leading to a sustained human note of pleasure.

The other sound in the room, liquids colliding, has become a chorus, a non-stop crescendo, from the increased volume and frequency, providing a background to the vocals I was preforming. I could no longer restrain myself, I slid another finger in past my latex lips, into my sex, and pinned the stub between two sharp nails. My nails provided a stream of stimulation on both sides of the stub, rapidly moving up and down. My upper hand extended onto the other nipple, took the fresh latex knob in between its nails and repeated the process. My forearm caught the old nipple, as the latex rubbed together, I began to massage the used and sore thing using the rubbery friction. The song of the cat filled the air as I rapidly approached another climax, my thighs closed tight, latex squealed everywhere, and a feline growl erupted along with the volcano of raw ecstasy that was my vagina.

This is a rough draft of my story, since editing is a hassle on xnxx,
polished chapters can be found at:

I will continue to post up rough drafts of The Occult here before releasing revised versions

I hope you enjoyed my story!

Anonymous readerReport

2014-03-05 10:56:07
In short, the declarations page gives QuotesChimp a brief but not all-inclusive overview of your insurance policy�its face, if you will, but not its heart and soul.

anonymous readerReport

2013-09-17 09:04:35
I also get this message and would like to try this but I can not find the fodelr library' to put this .osax' file into.Could someone please let me exactly where to add it. Does it go in the Adobe Photoshop CS5.1 fodelr?Adobe support was no help, unless I get them another $40 not help with them.

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