...a purple rubber collar. Shiny, of course, and made of the same material and of the same color as the rest of your outfit. At the center of the collar is a large black gem, somehow looking both stone and latex at once. Your blue eyes catch it and you know that you should put it on. In for a penny, in for a pound right? Besides, you feel naked without the collar on. A strange feeling really. You *know* you're clothed. You *know* you look like a doll or a toy. You *know* that whatever the outfit did to you, the collar is only going to do more of. But you still can't take your eyes off of it and still can't get your mind away from the thought that you really should be wearing the complete outfit and how good you'll look when it's on.
"...I'm going to regret this..." you mutter, voice fatalistic. Whatever changed you clearly has more in store. And as much as you want to try and say no, you're finding it difficult to even muster up the will to do anything more than pout and frown as your hands reach for the collar.
Much as you'd expect, there's a latch at the back which helps secure the thing. You don't set it tight yet, as you adjust it to fit snug and secure right above the top of the dress's neck piece. Once it's set in place, your fingers, operating mostly outside of your control, tightens the thing as far as it can go, the latch holding it tight against your skin. You should, by all rights, have trouble breathing. But like the dress, it fits perfectly and looks amazing on you. "Goddamnit..." you mutter to yourself as you stare at your reflection, a faint blush creeping into your skin. You're angry, of course, at being turned into a girl. But you're also starting to really enjoy how good you look.
A sudden heat between your legs snaps you to your senses, followed by an intense need. You find yourself not resisting this time, hands moving to slip under your skirt and petticoats to tease at your new womanhood. You clumsily grope around the panties for a seam, a way in, but instead all you're greeted with is a knee-quivering spasm of pleasure as your gloved hands press up against the rubber.
Or, perhaps, not so gloved. Before, your hands felt like they were coated in something, dulling senses and imparting a pleasurable sense of tightness. The tightness is still there, feeling even better than before, but you can feel the air on the gloves now, just as if they were your hands. The same is true of those frilly shoulders and those ruffles on your dress, running a finger down them sends shivers of pleasure through you. As you look, you can see the bow at your back settling in, your mind feeling the air on it, a sensation that's both really weird and surprisingly pleasurable.
You know you should scream, but everything just feels so...*good* as you look at yourself. It's still the girl from before, but there's a few changes. The dress, your skin, looks shinier now, better catching the light. It favors your slim figure more as well, enhancing your delicate grace. Your already pale skin has further whitened, gaining a faint shine to itself. It looks mostly natural, but it's a touch too perfect, and while your fingers feel something like flesh, it's a little latexy too. Your eyes have met the same fate, larger, a pure blue, lacking pupils and shining in the light. Again, almost normal, but a little too perfect, a little too shiny. Your hair has also changed, almost as shiny as your outfit, looking almost like someone dipped each strand of raven colored hair in the thinnest of rubber coatings. Of course, the biggest change from the girl wearing the outfit is the shoes. Bubbling out from your feet, liquid black latex begins to take shape, engulfing your toes reforming them into a single rounded shoe-end. On the soles of your new shoe-feet, hard black platforms begin to emerge, giving you a few inches of lift as a pair of black Mary Janes take shape, purple latex ribbons on the tongues, helping you make up for a few inches of the height you've lost.
Your hands, almost involuntarily, roam your body as you finish, letting you take in how the headpiece is now part of your head, the stockings and garters part of your legs, and that wonderfully frilly dress now is your torso. And despite it all, despite how much you should be panicking and screaming, you feel amazing. Every little bit of you is tight, like you're being hugged and compressed into something amazing.
"Screw looking like one...I *am* a bloody doll..." you mutter, voice not certain if it wants to be horrified or overjoyed. And to be honest, you're not sure at this point either. Sure, you might only be able to pass for normal at a distance, but you feel...well, better than amazing. Maybe this won't be so bad as...