Club Latex Ch. 03

We were met by Pril ... and by Molly, who had already been reconstructed by a shiny new suit. She was now a standard issue collared Sub, in fire engine red, and sporting an extraordinarily big 'lady-pleaser' option. She looked great. As for Doc, some clunking sounds from the far back room told me where he was. I turned over Carla to Pril for processing, and then helped Candy calm our newest recruits.

It turned out that, after having been Carla's mindless slaves for a month or two, they were having trouble doing much of anything on their own. Sort of like my Uncle Gilbert, Pfc, after he finally retired from the army. In his case, Auntie Irma took up the reins for him, and I could see that for now I was going to have to do the same for ... what were their names? They barely remembered, themselves, but after some discussion, they agreed they were Destiny and Raven. I suspected these were professional names, but they suited well enough.

While Carla was in the change booth - God knows what they told her to get her in there - Pril took the opportunity to demonstrate Molly's new cock.

"I fitted her with a double-ender from the accessory rack," she told me, while holding her hands wide apart to demonstrate. "Check this out!"

I'd assumed Molly had received an enlarged clit, like Carla's base model pets. On closer inspection, I saw that a stiff foot of black latex dildo projected directly from her box, and from Pril's description I knew there must be as much again mirrored inside her. She obligingly tipped her pelvis toward me, and so I took hold of the thing. It was supple, but cool; not like the other girls' hot new organs. Her shiny red pussy lips were wrapped tightly around the middle of the thing's curved shaft. But when I pulled on it, I could see that those lips had fused to it, just inside her. On the outstroke, her labia stretched out, further and further, rolling over the hidden ribbed surface of the portion of the dong that had been buried in her belly. Then, when I shoved it back into her, all that stretched skin folded back up and disappeared inside. I kept pushing until only four inches of dildo projected, at which point there was enough excess pussy-lip flesh to tightly hide it (and my hand) like a foreskin.

All through this process, Molly's eyes were crossing and her knees were trembling. She started to rub the bulge on the surface of her belly where the dildo's inner knob was pressing. It was clear she was having a good time.

I cycled that that pole in and out of her some more, and was about to try riding my end of it when Carla stepped out of her booth. She now looked exactly like her ex-pets. Using a trickle of pre-cum for lube, she was pumping away on her new clit-cock. She was using an overhand grip, so that she had a few fingers free to dive into her drooling cunt on each down-stroke. If her demotion to Sub troubled her, you wouldn't know it. She was plainly desperate with that first hunger for release we'd all had after the change, so I bent her over the back of a nearby chair. She continued to worry her wang, but the position more favourably displayed her pulsating pussy.

Molly whimpered with lust, but she waited until I gave her permission before thrusting her built-in dildo into Carla. The rest of us watched the performance. Destiny and Raven stood side by side, each holding the other's hard cock (it turned out they were sisters), Meanwhile Pril, pleased with her handiwork, stood behind me stroking my big nipples and rubbing her own against my back. Nearby, Candy had her cock-bill deep in a tall glass of cola, sucking contentedly.

Things were mostly beginning to come back into some kind of control - which you will grant is important to a newly forged Dominatrix like me. Alpha Dominatrix, if you please - the other two Doms were now looking to me for direction.

My qualifications as A/D were immediately put to the test, when Pantoufle appeared with the cowgirl and her hopeful steed in tow. "Candy tells me we may be able to make a pony out of Fran, here. She seems awfully keen. And it seems her mistress, Mizz Lewis, owns a verrry secluded ranch up in the hills."

Good call. I figured as long as we still had some girls out on the club floor to keep things going, maybe this would be a good time to do our first deal. I soon arranged to convert the willing Fran, in exchange for our future access to this Lewis woman's ranch. Lewis threw in an offer to begin construction on a private lodge for us, if we would enhance her as well. (Not in a cow-ish way, incidentally, in spite of what I've been calling her. She was more interested in Clyde's attributes.)

The truth is I would have done Fran for nothing. The girl was pitifully eager, and I was keen to see a transformation from the outside, so to speak. I'd managed to miss Carla and Molly's initiations, but this would do nicely. As it turned out, I got an eyeful.

Molly, when she had mostly recovered from her latest orgasm, took over her old duties. She provided Fran with a slug of 'VodkaPlus', which was, she said, fortified not only with sedatives but drugs essential to the process. And vitamins.

The girl was then stripped of all of her elaborate harness, and issued with a shiny brown bodysuit. Out of the box it looked pretty much the same as mine had, except for the big tail attached. She quickly slipped inside, grinning goofily with drug-addled delight at the feel of the shimmering stuff as it flowed over her flesh. But then her eyes glazed over completely, and IT began.

She shuddered slightly, and spread her legs as though bracing herself. Then with a small grunt she buckled forward at the waist, and kept going until she caught herself with her hands on the floor. Folded over like that, you could see her hips were shimmying inside like squirrels in a sack, as her body rearranged itself - or, more exactly, as her new skin rearranged it for her. Her hips spread while her thighs shortened, and then her back and neck began to stretch. The neck thing was particularly creepy, 'cause soon she was able to twist her head right around to watch her body changing. Her shoulder blades commenced to growing and shifting, too, while her forearms shrank up into her bulking chest. It was dizzying, and a just a little gruesome, to watch.

When the process had slowed down, some, Molly helped her put on two pairs of tall boots, front and back. Like the rest of the costume, they immediately began to re-arrange their contents. Fran's body slowly gained elevation, on account of, all the various bits of her hands and feet were fusing together and growing longer. Everything below her heels and wrists finished up pointing straight down, sort of 'en pointe' (okay, so I took ballet classes when I was a kid). Except that each remaining toe or finger on which she balanced was now a humungous hoof the size of a dinner plate.

After a last few adjustments, she swished the latex tail that was protruding from the base of her spine. Her body was now more or less that of a small pony - if you ignored her shiny rubber hide that stopped at her neck, the tits that still stood proudly on her chest, and her pink flushed face. Molly stood by holding an elaborate mask, which was designed to take care of that last item.

"Ready?"

"Yes. Please!"

Molly pulled the pony-hood over her head, and within minutes it was done. Her nose and mouth now protruded together, pony shaped but with a cartoonish snubness. Her ears stood high, while a latex Mohawk-cut mane now ran from the crest of her head down her long neck. Not quite a pony, but certainly a real pony-girl.

She was fidgeting like Carla had just done and I could tell she was suffering from the same desperate need. I sent Candy to the club floor so as to bring back the Sub most qualified to satisfy her, and we were soon enjoying the sight of our newest member plunging and bucking to Clyde's deeply felt assistance.

During the show, Molly appeared at my elbow and said, "According to what the sheik told us, she won't remember anything about being a woman. She'll be smart though. He said she learned some impressive, um, tricks. Also, she's gonna grow some. It's sort of like she'd just a foal now. Filly, actually, I guess."

I gave her a hard stare.

"I'm sorry. I know how to make the suits, but I don't have any idea why they work."

Just then, there was a great clatter from the lab. What now? I was first through the door. The window was broken and there was a bid pile of ragged duct tape on the floor. Somehow Doc had found a way to free his hands - I spotted a sharp-edged bench leg with fresh blood on it. It didn't matter. "Get him - now," I ordered.

The Subs scattered to obey, all except Molly who held back for a moment. "Begging your pardon, Mistress Lori, but he won't get far." She poked a tape-tangled lab coat and trousers with her toe. "For one thing, he's buck naked. For another, I splashed some VodkaPlus on him a while back, seeing as he wasn't keen to drink it. The stuff gets absorbed through the skin," she explained. It works slower that way, but he shouldn't be too hard to catch."

I thought, 'Mistress Lori'? What the hell, it'll do.

>< >< ><

The man ducked into an alley and leaned on the brick wall to catch his breath.

He had just spent an exhilarating five minutes preaching fire and brimstone to an entire den full of drunkards and whores. Now, having boldly chastised the patrons of the Olde Irish Alehouse, he felt positively aglow with virtue and moral superiority - plus with the adrenalin rush he'd needed to escape from the enraged sinners.

Perhaps he may have gone a bit overboard when he had started caning that licentiously dressed girl, but of course it was for her own good. It was then that he had been forced to flee. But the Lord had clearly rewarded his actions by guiding him to this quiet haven.

Just as this satisfying thought crossed his mind, a nearby door burst open and a naked crimson demon leapt out at him. The beast was complete with horns and tail ... and jutting tits. Once clear of the doorway, the demoness spread its wings wide. It seemed startled to find its wingtips were brushing the walls on either side of the alleyway. No doubt hell was a cramped (and crowded) place. The thing's collar, and the iron ring at its throat, proclaimed it to be a slave of its Dark Master, unleashed to do his bidding.

In terror he dropped to his knees. The soul-eater came straight for him, then stopped and said, "Did you thee ..." Its forked tongue was causing an odd lisp. "Aw, thcrew it," it finished, and with that, it ran off down the alley, its cloven hooves ringing on the cobbles.

As he knelt quaking, three more collared creatures spilled out from the Back Gate of Hades and tore off after the first. These were black and smaller than the red one - imps, perhaps. Identical to one another, they were human in shape, but each had boobs, gaping pussies ... and erect cocks. Their mouths were open, too, and rounded as though for singing - no doubt they were intended to mock the celestial choirs.

There was a brief pause, but a hellish din was coming from the still open door and he was too frightened to run away. The next thing to appear was a pair of oversized schoolgirls. They must, he supposed, be lost souls taking advantage of the unguarded door. They were holding one another and staggering like drunken sailors ... and giggling, presumably from hysteria. Their clothing seemed to be made of something resembling plastic - possibly something that could resist the flames - and the stuff was so tattered that one girl was actually exposing her shaved pussy. He saw it was swollen and red, and leaking the juices of endless demonic assaults.

Given the extent of her suffering, he was embarrassed to find himself getting aroused again, just as he had at that foul speakeasy. Perhaps, he hoped, his responses were forgivable, just a reaction to his stress.

Next out the Hell Gate was another imp, in red. This one WAS singing, rather dementedly. As it swerved off down the lane, he could hear the words:

"I say, 'Doctor! ain't der nothin' I can take, I say, Doctor!

To relieve my belly ache?'

And he say 'Lemme get dis straight -

You put de lime in de coconut, drink 'em bot togeder,

put de lime in de coconut, you drink 'em bot' up ...'"

Meanwhile, several more of the damned took their chance to bolt (or at least stroll) out the Door. One was an oriental man in a long leather coat that made him look like a pirate, and the other was a woman in a Nazi uniform. He hoped that they weren't quite as bad as they looked - he hated to think he was somehow the cause of this breakout.

Still, the whole notion of fleeing seemed sound. But, as he struggled back to his feet, another surge of naked demons rushed out. The first was an Oz-green female imp, which stuck out its huge tongue at him - or was that a ...? He was distracted from the rude sight by the appearance of the second creature, a brown one fitted with multiple tits. From its waist down, it resembled a horse. While it had no tail, its legs, hooves, and both its vagina and matching phallus were all horse-like. The beast's yard stood tall and gleamed in the streetlight thanks to a coating of fresh demon cum. He cringed at the implied menace of this organ.

And then the next monster arrived. This one was black, and like the other it had the legs and pussy of a horse. It also had a dick, but in this case that feature was unnervingly mounted where the creature's mouth belonged. Between its single brace of major tits was an equally disturbing whip. The wicked looking thing was hanging handle-up from the ring of its slave collar. Ignoring the runaway souls, it strode straight over to him, and tiny little lips at the end of its prominent pecker began to move.

"Which way did they go?"

Trembling, he pointed down the alley.

"Thanks," it squeaked, and set off at a gallop. The others followed, the little green one turning back for a moment to flash its impudent tongue ... or whatever.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as the clatter of hooves faded. Just maybe, he considered, God was trying to tell him something. When he opened his eyes again, in front of him stood what was obviously the devil-in-charge, a creature that seemed to be wearing most of the flayed skin of a young woman over its shiny black hide. It was the moment of truth.

"Don't mind us," the thing said, and strolled away down the lane after its minions. As this latest horror disappeared into the shadows, it added, "Have a nice day".

This didn't seem likely, because he could hear footsteps behind him. He turned up toward the alley's entrance to see a girl with a bruised face, an Irish publican, and a large frowning policeman. The latter was also, probably, Irish. With one last foolish notion of escape (I shall repent, Oh Lord, but please not this) he turned back, only to face the dreaded Door. Just in time to see a huge shape in a tuxedo lean out, catch hold of the Knob, and draw it softly closed.