Jean was lost in the highly erotic pleasure of her transformation into a woman shaped rubber object. She squeezed a rubberized buttock and plunged a finger in her puckered hole while her other hand was still furiously rubbing her shiny black vulva. Heavy breathing was punctuated by loud moans as her merging clothes remade her very substance. The hand that had been fingering her ass ran over her stomach, feeling how her jacket, blouse and flesh had almost become one. A shudder ran through her hybrid body. She wanted this, needed this, the consequences be damned.
The door of her office swung open, Jean could barely muster the effort to look in its direction. In the door frame stood Mason, a hunk of a man who wouldn't look out of place in a Calvin Klein ad. With powerful and determined steps he walked past the masturbating woman up to the window and closed the blinders. "Sunlight damages latex," he said, "Can't have that." Jean felt shivers go down her spine when he put a hand on her shoulder.
"You have probably figured out by now that I did this to you." A shrill gasp escaped Jean's throat. "When I saw you strut your stuff I just knew I could make it better, and then when you came back I thought: 'Why not? Her new shoes would look great with some latex.'" He pulled her chair away from her desk and positioned himself between it and her. "It looked so great on you that I decided to take it one step further." He was silent for a moment as he looked her in the eyes. "Are you enjoying your transformation?" Jean could only respond with a labored moan of pleasure.
Mason smiled approvingly. "Good. It'll look great on you." He ran his fingers through her short hair. "I've always preferred women like you; nice, skinny, not with 'boobs', or 'tits', but with modest breasts." His hand squeezed one of her slowly rubberizing orbs. "Lovely," he whispered, "And it will be all mine." Jean's eyes went wide when she saw him take out a golden pen. "Please," she cried out, drool trickling from the corner of her mouth.
"Please, what? 'Please, let me free,' or 'Please, let me be your rubber toy?'" He looked at her sternly and repeated the questions. "'Please, let me free?'" Silence. "'Please, let me be your rubber toy?'" Jean cried out. "Yes!" The corners of Mason's mouth curled up in a devilish grin. "You want to be mine?" "Yes!" "You want to turn into rubber?" "Yes!" "You want to be an object made for sex?" "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jean desired nothing more than to be this man's high heeled latex fuckdoll, to be his property, an object stripped of all humanity. The transformation had to spread, had to make her complete.
Mason grinned that grin again. "Guess I won't be needing this then," he said as he went to put his pen back in his pocket but stopped when a gold shimmer on the floor caught his eye. "Well, well, well..." Picking it up, he held it side by side with his pen. Jean panicked as she saw that it was hers. What if Mason tried to find out what she had written? What if he found out she was once a man? Surely he'd be disgusted and leave her to her own devices, which as a piece of latex would make life very hard. No, she had to be his shiny latex fantasy. There was no other option. Weakly she attempted to rise out of her chair but failed.
Mason stared at both pens for a moment and then spoke. "So that's how you broke the glass ceiling." Pocketing them both he turned back to Jean. "Now I have two," he said with a grin. The masturbating woman smiled weakly. With a single powerful movement he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of her chair against him. His free hand smacked a latex buttock, the sound resonating around her office. She yelped, feeling the shiny black globe tremble in the way only rubber could. "If you're going to belong to me you're going to have to listen," he said, "Stop touching yourself." Three more smacks followed to emphasize his order. Mustering all her will she pulled her sleek black fingers away from her needy sex.
"You're almost done," Mason said, running his hand over her sleek curves, "You look like you need something, though. Can you tell me what it is?" Jean whimpered as she barely managed to get one word past her trembling lips. "...cock..." The tall handsome man took a step back. "I'm not sure what you mean. Why don't you show me?" Pure lust surged through Jean as she stripped the hot man in front of her of his suit in record time, revealing chiseled abs and pecs, broad shoulders, powerful arms, a warm and hard penis; everything that her heterosexual female brain yearned for in a mate. Her slim latex fingers grabbed his throbbing erection, but he stopped her just as she was about to get on her knees. "Your pussy needs it more. Now say please." Jean was panting. "Please... master. Stick it in my pussy."
Mason didn't have to be asked twice, picking her up in a tight embrace and lowering her onto his throbbing length. Jean groaned loudly as her vagina stretched to accommodate his girth. The sensation of being filled in addition to the pleasurable stretching and squeezing of her latex drove her wild. A few days ago she had been a man named David -"Dave" to his friends- now she was a woman losing her virginity as she transformed into latex. Her owner ran his hand through her hair, pulling it lightly. "Your hair has already transformed, now only your face is left." Jean wanted to tell him how much she desired it, but no words came out. Her throat had just been taken over by the shiny black wave, leaving her mute. It didn't matter. She would be all rubber soon enough.
From then on it became a blur of shimmering black and the creaking noises of her latex. She was intensely aware of her being fucked hard and held in big strong arms, but anything beyond that was too much for her lust driven mind to grasp. Slowly her pleasure rose, getting closer to that peak she couldn't reach on her own. Every part of her that had been rubberized (and that was almost all of her) trembled with an erotic thrill in rythm with his thrusts. Then it finally happened: her pleasure crested and crashed down on her, rippling through her body as she arched her back and screamed a silent scream.
When she finally recovered, Jean was pressed against her master's broad chest, his arms around her. She could see herself in the mirror: from the bottom of her stiletto heeled feet to the top of her head, her body was now completely latex, even her eyes, mouth and hair. She shimmered with sleek unparalleled beauty. Her latex lips curled up into a content smile. She was perfect now.