Alone in dark, sliding slowly downwards on your belly in the strange tube you reach out blindly to test for obstacles in dark when something brushes against your face!
"Eeek!" Your squeal is a lot higher pitched than you would have liked, which you attribute to the figure hugging latex catsuit your stuck in squeezing bits of you too much.
You slow your slide by streching out your arms into the sides of the tube and then flap an arm around blindly. Whatever touched your face must have been very fine and light as you cannot feel it with your latex encased fingers. Your face tingles slightly where it was touched, but where whatever it was brushed your hair the tingles are more pronounced. Giving up for now you start sliding forwards once more, barely screaming at all the second time it happens, and after that barely noticing at all. Honestly, with the day your having what with being chased by bunnygirl mannequins and ensnared by a living catsuit a few tingles in the dark is nothing.
The tube twists a few times, occasionly passing over lumps in the floor, or slightly deformed by protrusions from the sides or above. You push on stoically, trying to ignore the unfamilar sensations of the catsuit rubbing against you, gripping you tightly or the odd pressure of the padding within that lends you a feminine shape. Reaching another lumpy section in the floor you try lifting yourself onto all fours to get over the obstacle, your back and sides pressing against the cloying walls of the tunnel. For once your glad of the suit, thinking how awful the curved tunnel surface would feel against your skin! You grin and arch your back to stretch, pushing yourself further into the membrane-like walls before yelping as something sharp presses deeply into you just above the buttocks. With a curse against your odd surroundings and unseen perils you scoot on into the inky darkness.
Your beginning dispair of your situation when your fingers touch something new. Theres something resting on the floor. You feel it in the dark, a semi circle of flexible plastic as far as you can tell. You ponder for a moment, glad of a distraction from the seemingly endless passage your crawling through. Hairband you think, sliding it onto your head in a moment of triumph. You pause, than decide it'll make a better souvenir than the catsuit if you get out of here and leave it in place. When you get out here you correct yourself, after all its a sign someone else has been this way before.
Theres a glimmer of light. At first you think your seeing things. Your eyes have been playing tricks on you in this rotten tunnel...in fact all your senses have been confused at some point...but now at last thats a real light! Its dim and reflecting around a corner but its there, your certain! But it also outlines an issue, with just enough vision to make out that the tunnel bunches ahead into a short narrow section.
You reach the tiny opening, placing your hands inside and pushing them apart to make the gap larger. The material is pliant like the rest of the tunnel, and moves as though elasticated, trying to snap back into its smaller dimensions. You can't go back, so with a grimace, push it wider once more.
The worst part is pushing your exposed head through, setting a new wave of tingles across your face and through your hair. Thankfully its a short section, and you take a breath as you pull your torso through. The narrow opening squeezes the fake chest of the catsuit hard, pushing hard enough into you that if feels like your being squeezed. You have a moment of confusion, trying to tell whats real and whats not, surely these...things...can't have become real? You pull yourself forward, freeing yourself with a pop and feeling the weight of your chest shift as the opening tightens against your ribs.
Its tight against your ribs, even tighter than it felt before, tight enough to make you wince and forget the odd sensations of your chest. You pull harder, wiggling to get through, but as you move forward the tightness stays with you, extending from just under the suits erstaz boobs to over your ribs and stomach, pinching your sides painfully above your hips. Its almost as if an extra layer has been applied to your catsuit, hard and rigid, restricting your breathing and posture.
As you reach to touch the affected area you slip through the tight opening, suddenly sliding quickly downwards towards the light, the restrictive feling fading before you tumble out of the tunnel blinking in a softly lit room with mirrors on the walls.
You glance back at the way you entered, noticing that the tunnel has the image of a cracked egg around it rather than the lips of the entry.
You stand on shaking legs, exhausted from your trip through the bowels of the building, but as you see you reflection you see how your travels have changed your body!