You lie there stunned, your male body clad in a rather feminine looking latex catsuit, pinned between a giant pair lips with your lower body in the darkness beyond and your upper half trapped in the wardrobe at the mercy of three animate mannequins dressed as bunny girls. It has, on reflection, been something of an unusual walk so far.
You close your eyes, awaiting fresh torment and transformations at the hands of your bunny themed nemesis, but nothing happens. Unable to stand the suspense you open your eyes only to see the bunnequins stood still, staring at you in amusement. The one in the blue suit, the one that you touched in a moment of madness, drawn by that intricate soft silky costume has produced an empty carton of popcorn and mimes eating it. There's a definite air of expection as they watch you watching them....that can't be good. Well, good for you at any rate.
You open your mouth to try pleading for forgiveness, but giggle instead. It's a high pitched girly giggle too, and you blush, raising a shiny latex covered hand to your mouth automatically. And the reason you giggled? Something just stroked the sole of your foot, from heel to toe and it tickled! You feel it again on your other foot, causing to to twitch your legs away and cover your mouth to stop another giggle escaping.
Your feet are touched again, more firmly this time from toe to heel, and then your mysterious hidden teaser starts working their way up your calves. Its hard to tell through the latex sheaf covering your legs but whatever is tickling you feels bigger than a finger, and quite strong. You close your legs on the unseen aggressor and breifly feel something large and flat pull away from between them. Your expression changes from amusement to horror as you look at the large pair of lips holding you close and the word 'tongue' springs to mind. The bunnequins have noticed your change of attitude, nudging and pointing, clearly enjoying the show.
"No. No, no, no, no!" Your frightened squeal rises higher in pitch as the thing runs up your leg, and starts caressing your inner thigh. You clamp you legs together, thumping on the lips with your gloved hands as the probing appendage forces its way futher up. You bite your lip as the tip brushes between your legs, partly to stop yourself from screaming in terror and partly to stop a pleasurable moan escaping your mouth. Despite the situation you can feel yourself growing stiff, your engorged member starting to stain against the tight, binding latex that pins it to your body. And yet the tongue ignores it, continuing to probe between your legs as you start to sweat and moan. Through the haze of conflicting desires and fear you suddenly become aware of a new sensation, a tight bunching of muscles between your legs, right where the tip of the tongue keeps probing, teasing. You picture a flower bud, wrapped up tight, slowly opening to bloom, and feel those muscles start to shift, your skin flow and open with a different type of desire even as your obvious and familar male erection seems to fade in your mind. Your whole body is shifting, the latex catsuit starting to feel more comfortable as if it was made for you, or perhaps in truth as you are remade for it. You can feel the material pushing against your suddenly erect and sensitive nipples as your chest starts to expand and hair grows as the tongue continues to work away at your newly forming feminity, a thin layer of latex the only thing between you and it, a tiny membrane that now beginning to grind back against the questing tongue with...
A tiny voice gasps "this isn't right", high pitched and clearly feminine, desire hanging on every syllable and you pause barely recognising that it came from you. You manhood is nearly a ghostly memory, a mere vague impression in the latex covering you that will vanish entirely if you push down on the tongue one mote time, but if you focus on it you can feel the changes slowing, starting to reverse even. But as your thighs are caressed once more, do you really want to resist the changes any longer?