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Toni gets latexed

by Nequ

2008 Creative Commons By-SA-NC 3.0

+++++

They're creeping, you're sleeping

You're dreaming, they're peeping

Releasing and featuring

All sorts of nasty things

-Apex Lion's "Kolchak"

+++++

Once upon a time, in a major American city, a deliveryman walked up to an apartment building. There was a brass plate outside, with the names of the residents, under plastic. He scanned the list until he found the one he was looking for, and pressed the button.

Upstairs, two women looked up from a kitchen counter. The smaller, blonder one hopped off the stool, and went over to the intercom. "Yes?"

"I have a package for...Toni Sparks?"

"That's Sparc. Apartment 5E. Come on up," Toni said, and buzzed him in.

"You were expecting a package?" said her friend Sara, still at the counter with her mug of tea.

"No...but maybe it's from Mom," Toni replied, yawning. "She likes to send me care packages."

"Didn't we graduate about eight years ago?"

"What can I say? I like cookies," Toni shrugged. Her wide hips gave weight to her statement.

"Shouldn't you put some clothes on?"

Toni looked down. She was only half-dressed, wearing a skirt, bra, and hose. Sara, by contrast, was immaculate, as usual. She liked to be in control, in her life and in the courtroom. Toni grabbed a wrinkled blouse from the couch and pulled it over her modest chest.

"You can't answer the door in that!"

"Why not?"

"It'll look like we just had sex!"

"I said, why not?"

Sara groaned. Toni had been teasing her about this, on and off, ever since they met. For all the lawyer's on-top-of-it, she wasn't exactly the most secure in her sexuality.

Someone knocked at the door.

Without even checking the peephole, Toni yanked the door open, clutched her unbuttoned blouse shut with her other hand, and started gasping. "Yes?"

"T-Toni Sparks?"

"That's me!" Toni said brightly. Behind her, Sara facepalmed.

"Sign here, please." Toni did, and the deliveryman handed over the cube-shaped package. "Have a nice day."

He tucked his clipboard under his arm, and walked away, looking back once, to find Toni staring hungrily at his butt. She waved, and he walked a little faster.

"Do you think they sell those little shorts? Somewhere?"

"No. A couple of places have made offers, but they've turned them all down."

"Why do you know this?"

"I'm a lawyer." Sara took a deep breath. *This* was why she came here in the mornings; these little sparring matches with her friend were better than espresso. "What's in the box, Toni, what's in the box?"

"A head."

"A head? There's a head in the box?"

"Kidding. I don't know what's in here. It's heavy, and it doesn't rattle."

Sara had already found a letter opener, somewhere in the chaos that was Toni's desk. Her friend placed the box on the table between Sara's teacup and Toni's mug of coffee, and the taller woman gently slit the tape holding the box shut. Toni lifted the flaps, and they both stared at a perfectly flat, black, glossy surface.

"Um," Toni said, "I'd like to use my lifeline, Regis."

Sara reached for the box, grasped its sides, and shook it up and down. The substance moved too. It seemed to be roughly cube-shaped. The lawyer turned the box over onto the table, and the black thing came sliding out. It *was* a cube.

"Weird," Sara said.

They both touched the cube at the same time. A heartbeat later, it exploded.

Gobs of black goo hit both women hard, knocking them both to the floor. Sara looked down at her suit, thinking, crazily, that she'd have to get it dry-cleaned, only to find the goo *moving*. It looked like a buncha little black slugs were trying to get to her face-

She reached up and clawed at them, but they were already forcing their way up her nose, down her throat. Every time she grabbed one, it just wrapped itself around her hands, her arms, until it seemed like she was wearing long gloves of some shiny material. Her throat burned as they went down, and she couldn't breathe-

Toni was having an entirely different experience.

Her fall had left her prone, gasping, the half-dirty blouse fallen open to expose her boobs. The slugs slid onto her bare stomach and under her bra, wrapping themselves aorund her left areolae. That one had always been a little lopsided, but the slug pushed its way in, painfully, and Toni could suddenly *feel* the thing writhing around in her boob. She grabbed at it, trying to squeeze it out, but several of its fellows bound her hands together, leaving the way clear for several others to get in. Toni's breast suddenly doubled in size, the black things still visible underneath.

Incredibly, her tit began to leak black, a thin stream of darkness that ran down her breast, across her ribs, down her side. It stained the blouse. Several more cupped themselves over her boobs, flattening themselves out. More wove themselves across her body, so the effect, if anyone had been watching, would've made it seem like she was growing herself a latex catsuit.

Sara's throat caught fire for a few seconds, and she could suddenly get air into her lungs again. She took two deep breaths before she realized that her throat was different. She could feel the air moving down her neck. It was like the time she had her cast taken off and she could suddenly *feel* things with her arm again.

The lawyer reached up, and stopped when her hand squeaked.

Somehow, when Sara was panicking, the slugs had made her a new suit.

It was tight, very tight. Black, of course, and shiny. She sniffed her hand. Smelled like latex, or maybe rubber. She licked herself, catlike. Tasted like it too. Strangely, her pantsuit was still on over the new suit, if a little disheveled. She looked around; the slugs that weren't on her were gathering themselves into a lump on the floor, or they were on Toni.

In fact, they were all over Toni. Her face wasn't even visible, and she wasn't moving. Sara panicked. Just a little. For all she knew, Toni had just been turned into some kind of weird doll-

"Toni?" she said, and shook her friend. "Toni, are you in there?"

No response. Then the black stuff left from her face in an unpleasantly organic fashion, like peeling the world's kinkiest banana. Toni turned her head to face her friend.

"Um, *what*?" she said. "What the frick just happened?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me." Sara said dryly. Toni's bonds released, and the lawyer helped her friend to her feet. "We seem to be covered in latex."

"Yeah, I know. But I don't think it's actually, y'know, latex. I think it's alive."

"And what makes you say that?" Sara asked, in the voice she used for grilling mentally unstable witnesses.

"They just moved off my face, remember? And check out my boobs!"

Toni's suit stopped at her bustline, like some weird, um, bustier. As she cupped her breasts, Sara saw the right shrink and the mass go into the left. Now the right. Now the left. Now the right.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"No, it doesn't hurt at all! It can't get any smaller than my original boobs, I think, and the, um, extra boobage is made up entirely of these things."

"Huh, interesting. We should call 911."

"I don't think we should."

"Why not?"

"We're late for work."

"We can call in sick."

"I don't think your employers or mine will accept 'magical living dominatrix suit' as an excuse." Toni took her friends arm and started dragging her towards the door. "Besides, they can hide under our clothes, and we can go to the emergency room after work."

"I don't think that's a good ide-"

"No time! Go wear white suits and accuse the defendant's wife or whatever! Go, go!"

Toni slammed the door behind her friend, and turned to face the black blob that was sitting in the middle of her floor, looking for all the world like an eager puppy.

"Um, okay, I don't know what you are, but I know you can understand me. I'm just going to get dressed, and then I'm going to finish my coffee, and then I'm going to leave. Okay?"

The blob didn't move.

"Okay!" Toni said brightly, and finished her morning routine. The blob followed her around the apartment, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that it was watching her to make sure she didn't try any funny stuff. At the end of it all, she checked the purse for her keys, and walked out the door. "I'll be back in time for dinner. If not, you can start without m-screw this. My comedic talent is wasted on you." She locked the door with a soft click.

The blob waited for a few seconds.

Toni opened the door and poked her head back in. "Stay!" she commanded. "Good slugs."

+++++

It was an odd day for Toni.

She floated through the first several hours of her workday. Several people asked her if she had changed her hair or gotten an enema or something, and she just smiled and shook her head.

Her nipples had gotten so *sensitive*. The slugs seemed to be a lot better than her old, regular nerves, and though the sensation wasn't sexual-not entirely-it felt good enough to keep her in a happy haze.

Something squeaked against glass.

Toni suddenly realized she wasn't at her desk. She was in the mail room, with the door closed, sitting on top of the copier with her skirt pulled up, and she had no idea how she got there.

That was weird; it wasn't even the office Holiday Party.

Apparently, she had forgotten to wear undies. Someone had set the expensive, industrial copier to make a few hundred reproductions of her vagina. She was fairly certain she'd be safe, as long as HR didn't have some kind of vulva profiler on retainer or something.

A key rattled in the lock, and then Rick the Mail Boy walked in., closing the door behind him. He was so focused on muttering about who locked him out of the mail room that it took him a few seconds to realize Toni was there. It took him one second to realize what she was doing, and even less time to notice her new boobs.

"Um," he said.

Toni felt hot all of a sudden. It was like a fever, and the only prescription was some penis. Fortunately, there was some close at hand.

She smiled and hopped off the copier, leaving small splotches of black where her vagina had been. She didn't bother to pull down her skirt.

"I want you to take off your pants, Rick." Toni said.

Rick blinked. Bea Arthur wasn't hanging from the ceiling wearing a gimp mask, and his tie was red, so he was definitely awake. Which begged the question of why Miss Sparc was now advancing toward him, taking off her clothes like someone had promised her Jif and Oreos.

"I think I should go," he said, and reached for the knob.

Afterwards, he was never sure if his hand reached the handle before the black goo or not. He hoped it was the former, otherwise he would've had to explain that he grabbed on to something covered in a strange substance while in the same room as a woman who was acting strangely.

That would be *embarrassing*.

Rick stared at his black-encased hand. Then he looked at Ms. Sparc. She was just straightening back up, and he thought of that scene in Titanic where Jack taught Rose how to spit. Something black dripped from her lips. In fact, her lips were black. And her tongue. And the inside of her mouth.

Rick figured that was a bad sign.

"Miss Sparc?" he said, in the same tones he would use to say "Good doggie. *Good* dog," while edging for a gate. Unfortunately, there was no gate, and he cringed as Miss Sparc reached him and...unzipped his pants. Oh. She wasn't going to eat him.

She pulled down his boxers and took his limp dick into her mouth. Okay, maybe she *was* going to eat him.

His penis stirred to life under her ministrations as he weighed the pros and cons. On the one hand, blowjob. On the other, dismissal without severance due to inappropriate sexual conduct on company time and with company property, and a possible black spot on his record preventing from ever working in the industry again.

Well, that was easy.

He wasn't sure, exactly, how to get away. He pushed Miss Sparc, gently, only to find that she wouldn't budge, and trying just tickled his piercing. Further examination revealed that black, slick tentacles had sprouted from her mouth and wrapped around his cock, and several more had headed south, so to speak. East and west, technically, but Rick was to busy trying not to pee his pants to care about the details.

So...not pushing then.

He tugged at the door. The black goo was jamming it, and as the coolness grasped at his butt, he realized that there was no escape. Well, except through the air vents, and that would be difficult with a Cthulhuian creature lavishing his crotch with her attentions. That left one option.

He banged on the door a few times. Outside, two coworkers looked up from their conversation.

"That *dog*," said Simmons.

"Right in the *mail* room," said Jenkins, shaking his head in admiration.

Rick banged harder.

"Sounds like he's wrapping up," Jenkins remarked.

Inside the room, Rick was near to panic as the tentacles touched his rectum. Then he panicked. He punched Toni in the head, lunged about the room, and rattled the door even harder. In all this, he completely failed to notice something being inserted into his urethra.

Until it started to change him.

A sharp pain, radiating outwards from the core of his shaft, followed by an intense sensation that promptly kicked his blowjob up to eleven. Where the pain went, the sensation followed. It was just like the time after he got his cast taken off.

"Hnnrgh!" he said, and arched against the door. Toni smiled, and worked harder.

Rick, for his part, was somewhat concerned. He had never experienced mind-shattering pleasure and mortal fear at the same time. Freud would probably say that he was afraid of being castrated by the mother figure. And that he wanted to have sex with her. And Rick would reply, yes, Freud, I've got a handle on that already. What I'd like to do is *stop* having sex with her, and not to have my genitalia turned to black tentacle things. Could you get an axe?

One last pull at the bottle-so to speak-and Rick finished, shooting his sticky black load into his glassy-eyed coworker's mouth. The tentacles and the goo around the doorknob released him, and he fell onto the floor, sending dark goo up into the air. Far more than the average orgasm. Eventually it stopped, and the room went quiet.

Utter terror and his best orgasm ever, Rick reflected, as he lay gasping on the floor, was not a good combo. It was probably gonna lead to him browsing some *real* weird websites in the near future.

Toni suddenly sat up. Her eyes were clear, and she licked her lips with a tongue that was pink, like usual. She looked at her prone coworker, and his black-clad penis, and the goo splashed around the room.

"Oops," she said.

Then the door opened.

+++++

Sara did the usual stall check; there was no one else in the courthouse bathroom besides her and some woman crying. She picked a stall a safe distance away-no time for any "wide stance" misunderstandings-and sat down.

Relief.

Her bladder had been bothering her for the past hour or so, but she hadn't wanted to ask the judge for a recess. "Your honor, I need to pee," would've left her the laughing stock of the legal community.

Wait, something was wrong. It felt wrong. It sounded wrong too.

Sara grabbed a wad of cheap toilet paper-only the best for the officers of the court-and wiped. It came up black, and sticky. She maneuvered herself into a position where she could peer down into the bowl.

Several slugs, and some goo, were cheerfully swimming around the bowl. They couldn't get purchase, on account of the sides being slippery with water, so they couldn't climb out. Not that she'd take 'em back, anyway.

"You have *got* to be kidding me," Sara said as she reached for the handle.

It took three tries for her to get rid of it all. Then she had to remember to clean up herself and flush that too. There was chlorine in the water system, right? That'd probably kill them.

"I wish I knew what was going on!" said the crying woman to no one in particular.

"You and me both, sister," Sara whispered.

Two stalls over, the crying woman suddenly yelped. There was a strange, slick noise, and the sounds of something scrabbling.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Sara said. She peered under the door, to see the legs of the other woman. She tried to get up, and slipped, falling against the door.

Sara got up. Weird slugs or not, the other woman might need help. She left the stall, and walked over, half-bent. Not exactly a dignified position for an officer of the court. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

Nothing. Just scratches, and the sound of someone falling. And moaning noises. Maybe she was in pain. Sara considered using the slug-thingies to open the stall, but it opened up and the woman inside fell into Sara's arms. She felt squisher than most people-though that could just be from eating too much donuts-and her skin shifted uncomfortably under Sara's hands.

"Ma'am?"

The woman suddenly tensed, eyes wide, breathing hard, her mouth opened in a strange parody of an O-face. She moaned, and something black came sliding out of her, to plop wetly on the floor.

Oh.

Oh *crap*.

Sara glanced at the toilet. Sure enough, it was covered in trails of black slime. They had gone down the toilet and back up again, into the crier, leaving some cleaning lady one *heck* of a job this evening.

(We have relieved her of her suffering.)

"Who said that?" There was no one else in the bathroom. Sara looked down; her new suit had climbed its way to her chin.

(We did.) The suit wriggled.

"You didn't say you could talk!"

(You never asked.)

The crying woman coughed, and her eyes opened. "What...what just happened to me?"

Sara opened her mouth...and hesitated. She was a lawyer, a good one, and she knew good 'n well what happened when you got asked questions you didn't have the answer to. Happened a million times on Law and Order.

"You slipped."

"Slipped," said the woman flatly. She was wearing a server's uniform, and Sara read "Kelly" off the name tag. If one of her defendants had used that excuse, Sara would've repeated the statement in the exact same "yeah, right" tone Kelly used.

"You slipped and...you must've hit your head and caught the latch."

Kelly reached up. "My head's fine. What's going on?"

Sharp as a tack, this one. "There's a clinic near the entrance." Sara said, pushing the young woman out the door. "Ask them!" She briefly wondered if it was a good idea to keep lying, but the slug-thingies seemed more or less harmless. They'd be fine, as long as they were smart enough to keep their heads down. Not that they had any.

"Who are y-"

"No time!" She locked the door behind the girl, and sighed in relief. Then she straighed up, a Serious Lawyer look on her face. Time to get some answers.

"And now," she said to her new suit, "the defense calls-"

Her phone went off; recess was over. Crap.

"Don't think we won't talk about this later, you...latex...parasite...slug things."

(We are technically a symbiont,) the suit said as it hid itself.

"Oh, *cute*."

Sara left the restroom and headed towards the courtroom. She slipped through the doors just in time to miss the two cops, guns drawn, racing towards the clinic.

+++++

"I don't know where to start," said Mrs. Hart.

Toni and Rick hung their heads. They were standing up, and Toni half-expected the HR Director to give them a few slaps with a ruler.

Mrs. Hart was a widower. Rumor around the office was that she ate Mr. Hart. She was stern, and strict, and connected. Toni couldn't think of any org chart wherein the HR Director was the Chooser of the Slain, dotted line or otherwise.

"Miss Sparc!" That finger, like an arrow. An accusing arrow. With bright red polish. "You have been an employee of this company for several years. I am *very* disappointed in your behavior."

Well, it wasn't *that* bad. Why did everyone make such a fuss when you were caught giving head to the mailboy? If they had seen the slugs, they've *really* freaked out.

"And Mr. Mann, that strange...codpiece I'm told you were wearing-"

"I had no idea the company regulated it's employees' underwear," Rick said. Toni elbowed him.

"That's correct, Mr. Mann." Mrs. Hart smiled grimly. "Except when such underpants are on public display."

"There's another type of display?" Toni elbowed Rick harder.

"Yes, Mr. Mann, there is." She steepled her hands in what Toni recognized from her high school days as the Immovable Authority pose. "The company allows a certain amount of license during holiday celebrations ad the like. In the mail room? On a Tuesday afternoon? Not so much."

"Glad we've got that straightened out," Rick stood up. "Now, I've got a copy machine to clean up..."

"Mr. Mann, you're not going anywhere."

Rick shrugged. "Well, if you insist." He kicked the table. It slid a few feet, pinning Hart to the wall. She gasped and tried to free herself, but she had nothing of the strength of the young man on the other side with a manic grin on his face.

"Toni, lock the door."

The blonde did so. "Okay, *what* are you doing?"

"I'm not sure. I can't reach her."

"Yes you can," said Toni, as she removed Hart's purse and intercom and disconnected her computer. The older woman, for her part, was watching them intently. Her hair had fallen partially out of her tight bun, and her glasses were askew.

"What do you mean I can reach her?

Toni tilted her head.

"Oh. OH."

Hart looked suspiciously at Rick as he closed his eyes and concentrated. There was the sound of a belt-buckle clinking, despite the fact that his hands were still clutching the table and Miss Sparc was next to her. Either he had very long pinkies or he had a prehensile dick.

Turned out to be the second one.

Hart suddenly gasped, and tried to see what was going on under the desk. It *felt* like something cool and slick was none-to-gently pushing aside her skirt. And her panties. And into her-

Oh *my*.

"Rick? Rick? You can't do this. You can't rape me-"

"Why not?" Rick shot back. "Who's gonna stop me?"

"Rick," Toni said "You can't do this-"

"Oh, you're one talk. Didn't you *rape* me?"

"I-" Toni stopped. "I wasn't exactly in control, Rick. I'm sorry about that, but I can explain-"

"No! No more explanations, or lies, or-or mercy! Mrs. Hart?"

"Y-yes?" Toni had never seen a full body cringe before.

"You're *screwed*." And with that, he drove his personal tentacle into his superior.

Toni watched the horror for several minutes before saying to herself, "I've created a monster."

Her phone rang. She snatched it off Hart's shaking desk-both Hart and Rick were a bit to busy to care at this point-and glanced at the caller ID. Flipping it open, she said "Monster's Inc.! How may we corrupt you?"

"That bad?" said Sara.

"Yeah. At this rate, I'll be responsible for the destruction of the human race by Halloween. How was *your* day?"

Sara looked around at the crowd of people she was standing in. Most of them were staring at the courthouse and the nice wooden barricades the men in blue had put up. Some were wondering if the the cops would let people back in before the end of the day.

"Not much better."

Silence on both ends of the line.

"Toni? I think I made a mistake."

"Me too."

"Lunch?"

"Please."

+++++

"-and that's what happened."

Silence. The cafe was actually rather quiet. The AC was broken, and a lone ceiling fan stirred the dust slightly. Sara stared into her Manhattan and tried to figure out their next move. Toni glanced at the TV in the corner.

It said something about a bioterrorist attack, and a quarantine. Two, actually. Raw! Amateur! Video! from inside the sealed-off skyscraper, obviously taken from inside the air vent, showed someone running away, being snared by several black and red tentacles, and dragged out of view, screaming.

Everyone gaped.

The volume was turned up. "-lice are searching for these two women in connection with the attack. If you see them, you are advised to call 911 immediately-"

"Huh," said Toni. "They could've used a better picture."

"At least *you* look okay." Sara grumbled. "That's my driver's license photo." Both women seemed not to notice the other patrons of the restaurant glancing sidelong at them, some discreetly using their cell phones.

They sat there for a while, as the restaurant emptied.

Several large, black sedans skidded to a stop in front of the cafe. The two women looked at them for a few seconds as men in dark suits got out.

"Nice weather out there," Sara noted.

"Yep."

The lawyer got up and started to unbutton her blouse. "We should take advantage of it."

Toni smiled. "Yep."

+++++

Anthony J. Sparks was kinda in a snit. He was waiting for something very important, and it hadn't gotten there yet. So he paced.

He was new to the building; an artist. He drew a very...specialized type of art. His knowledge was entirely theoretical, of course, so he had counted his pennies ordered a certain product from a mysterious website, one heartily recommended by several of his customers.

It never occurred to him that a deliveryman might get him confused with the woman living next door.

"Where is it?" he muttered. "That package was supposed to be here *hours* ago!"

THE END