Taking the rubbery costume, you sigh in ultimate suffering at your girlfriend, feeling a surprising warmth and weight to the skinsuit. The male imp leers at you. “Well, put it on” in his high pitched voice, looking and sounding like a kid denied his candy.
You give another resigned sigh, removing your shirt and pants, then, feeling faintly dirty despite knowing it’s only your girlfriend in here with you, you take off your boxers, staring at the skin now completely nude.
The thing is a female copy of your girlfriend’s costume, face looking a bit more rounded, hair longer, body slightly differently shaped, but otherwise possessing the same slightly rubbery pinkish-red skin, horns, taloned feet, tail, wings, and other features. Like your girlfriend’s, it’s got a hole in the neck for you to climb into, and then put the head piece over and looks way too small for you. Still, it fit her, this should fit you.
Sitting down with the costume before you, you stretch open the neck, grimacing as the inside feels slick and slightly wet. With determined effort you slide your left leg in, trying to match it up to the left leg of the skin. Much to your shock, it’s yielding and comfortable, like you’re putting on a perfect made set of clothes. That wetness, whatever it is, helps you slide in like a dream, and you’re soon left with a cute little taloned foot, naked to the world, covered leg feeling warm, comfortable, and almost like it’s home. “I didn’t expect this to be so comfy” looking at your girlfriend, surprised.
“Oh yeah, you’ll never want to take it off.” The male imp gives a cheerful giggle that’s laced with more than a hint of mischief. You blink for a moment, then shake your head, the thought concerning you but not enough to stop you putting in your second leg, sliding the costume up over your hips and crotch.
Where you felt comfort before, you feel satisfaction now. It feels like you did something deeply metaphysically right as you feel the interior of the costume’s flat crotch push up against your own. There’s no bulge at all, your body compressed into the bodysuit without hint of what’s underneath. Kneading a little between your legs, now in costume and flat and featureless as your girlfriend’s, only enhances that rightness instead of a more expected sensation. It's like you're not sensitive down there anymore. You think about commenting on it, but chalk it up to the weirdness of the costume and instead reach down and easily slip both your arms into the bodysuit. It's like they're being welcomed, guided one and then another into the armholes, leading to you grunting in childish triumph as you get them in perfectly fitting the first time. “Got’cha!” exclaiming as you wiggle your delicate fingers, tipped with little black claws, in obvious delight.
Once the arms are on, you have a few moments to marvel. You feel better than you’ve ever felt, like this is what you should be. Running your fingers along your slim sides, you can’t help but wonder if your costume wings fluttered a little. “Feels great, doesn’t it?” your girlfriend’s tone a combination of teasing, taunting, and genuine joy. “Makes you want to put on the head and never worry about another stupid human thing.”
If you were thinking rationally, you’d be taking the costume off with how much you've changed, but ever since you entered the manor, it’s like a fog has come over your thoughts, making you accept plainly strange things. That fog doesn’t lift as you nod, mind idly drifting to how much more fun you’d have never having to worry about stupid human things ever again. Besides, your head feels cold and *wrong*, not like the rest of you. Time to warm it up. “Yeah! Sounds like a fun little game.” you say as you lift the leering female imp head over yours, plopping it on and trying to hide the neck seam.
You’ve only got a heartbeat to work before you feel a sudden pushing of the mask against your face, like it’s trying to push itself into you. You’re knocked back, light headed, staggering. With a sharp intake of breath you feel….