You aren't sure how long the haze lasts. Every sensation that reaches you seems to be muffled and distant, as if it has to travel through a thick fog in order to reach your mind. There's a sensation of movement, followed by a calm that seems to radiate from Mira, the sort of comfort one feels upon reaching a safe place. There are implications there, but your mind, floating in a sea of peace, isn't able to focus on piecing everything together. You can't get to anything more coherent than recognition of the fact that you no longer feel breath drawing in and out of your lungs; it should be alarming, yet you find it to be a relief that there's one less function to concern yourself with.
By now, everything has gone numb. You can't feel any of your limbs, nor any section of your body at all. Not until, with Mira paused, you begin to register the tingle of some sensations returning. You still can't see, but you can feel... mass, is the best way you can describe it. You can feel the weight of yourself, shapeless, a blob not unlike the one you witnessed last night. That's what you are now, you realize. A blob of latex goop. It's staggering to think that this had scared you the previous night. This is what terrified you? Comfort, peace, tranquil rest? You were foolish, and now, you were thankful to Mira for pushing past your horror to bring you this wonderful experience.
Much as the man was molded into a feline creature, you can sense yourself being molded. Your mistress is applying definition to you, forcing the amorphous blob that is your body to assume a fixed shape. It's humanoid, you can deduce in moments, a torso, a head, arms, legs, ten fingers, ten toes. Yet it doesn't stop there. The warmth of her forming influence extends to your chest, where you can feel growth, your body being compelled by Mira's power to assume additional mass. The growth is being shaped into two mounds, both of generous size, as you finally take note that the rest of your body is more slender than what your human form was.
Not for long, however, as you feel the comfort travel to your hips, your thighs, and your buttocks. Just as before, everything is compelled to swell up. Some distant part of you is scared as it grasps at the edge of what you are being reformed into, yet it is silenced in moments. You had admired from afar such features for years. Why be scared to obtain them for yourself, and such considerable examples no less? This is a gift from your mistress, one to be enjoyed and treasured. Yet it's not even the last gift, something you determine as the tugging sensation forming out your long, flowing hair swirls around to between your rubber legs. Oh no, she has one more bounty in mind.
The entrance you feel being split open is to be expected. Alien to you, but the precise sort of entryway that yould would expect to have mated with your vivacious curves. Above this feature, however, you feel a more concentrated swelling, one that is far more familiar. It rockets out into a long and stiff shaft, at its base hanging a pair of sizable spheres made from hardened latex. It's far, far larger than what you were used to, a fact you can see as nothing less than another blessing. If you could buck your wide hips, you would do so in order to thrust it within your mistress, but she keeps you in place as she completes this divine process.
Your face is the last thing to be formed as you are pulled from Mira's embrace, eyes and nose and a mouth gasping as you stumble from within her body, at last being able to glimpse your own. You emerge to a dark crimson color covering your body, shining under the light just as Mira's skin does. With every movement you can hear the squeaks, and feel them, smiling from the sensation. Everything has become sensitive, most of all your considerable feminine and masculine features: your large and well-rounded tits beg to be squeezed, your thighs ache to have Mira's face between then, and your enlarged cock aches to penetrate her. Your red hair dangles down, brushing against your huge ass, as Mira addresses you.
"See? There was nothing to fear." She reaches out, placing a hand upon your cheek as your mouth is held open by surprise and excitement in equal measure. It takes all the resistance you can muster not to pleasure your mistress right here; you are oh so desperate to express your gratitude, and can think of no better way. She can sense your need, and beckons you forward, laying on the floor of the home she's brought you to. Her own house, the garage, you recognize, yet you think nothing of it. Nothing can occupy your mind save for the divine champion before you, this example of holy beauty who needs you as much as you need her. She spreads wide, and you thrust in, welcomed by the embrace of her rubber body.
Every inch of her seems to move, massaging your rod, guiding it deep within her. You lay down atop the champion, your enormous mounds squishing against hers, so much soft latex flesh sticking together as you thrust back and forth. Her hands brush through your long hair to reach your back end, gripping tight, the latex yielding much beneath her powerful grasp. Moans and yells fill the air as much as squeaks, though these beautiful sounds are soon overwhelmed by your groans of pleasure as you feel yourself unloading into her. Globs of more material, latex, but in a liquid state, not unlike the one you were in. A catalyst, you realize on instinct, for the sparks of more rubber-bound joy laying dormant within Mira.
This isn't just an expression of lust, you realize. This is holy communion. Your seed, planted into your mistress, will grow into the beginnings of the army she needs to sweep across the Earth. Your sense of excitement multiplies as your are filled with purpose, now realizing that this goes beyond simple immersion in pleasure. It represents your contribution to a great crusade. The vigor of your motions and the volume of your release grows by the moment as this duty compels you - deep down, you promise yourself that you will not allow the mission placed upon yourself and your mistress to fail, under any circumstances.