Archived Version

Today is the thirtieth day since my sister disappeared. I have sought help from every possible avenue — the police, the public through media appeals — but not a single lead has surfaced. It's as though she simply vanished from the face of the earth. And then, this very afternoon, I received an anonymous text message containing a location and a warning not to contact anyone.

Consciousness returned slowly from endless chaos. I gradually opened my eyes. After such a prolonged blackout, the stark white light was almost blinding. Where… where am I? The throbbing agony in my head, and the total helplessness that had overtaken my body as though I'd been anaesthetised, left no room for doubt — I had been kidnapped. I tried to move, but couldn't muster the slightest strength. From the cold sensation above and below me, I could tell I was lying naked on something resembling a gynaecological examination chair.

“Good day to you, beautiful miss.” With a greeting that was somewhat muffled, the upper half of a woman's body entered my field of vision. She wore a white surgical gown and a white mask and surgical cap, but every remaining patch of exposed skin was covered in black latex — including the strip of face between mask and cap, which was nothing but a smooth arc of latex. Not a single biological feature was visible.

“What do you want?!” I demanded, but my immobile body and trembling voice betrayed how hollow my defiance was. “Relax, dear,” a latex palm in a white disposable glove came to rest against my cheek, “I'm here to grant your wish.” ”Grant my wish — are you serious?” “I know the deepest, most unspeakable desire in your heart, and I can help you.” She looked at me. I couldn't see her eyes, and yet I felt completely seen through.

“You always carry yourself with that cold, unapproachable air in everyday life, but you've always fantasized about losing the ability to move — about becoming a fucktoy for anyone to use as they please. Am I wrong?”

The muscles in my face stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment, then quickly returned to normal. She had guessed right. I did have those fantasies often — imagining myself completely bound in latex, then left in some corner of the city to be violated by anyone who passed by. But at the end of the day, it was just a fantasy that heightened arousal. There was no way I would actually give up everything I had to become a human toilet.

“Nonsense! Let me go right now. My family must have already called the police — do you want to be hunted for the rest of your life?”

She paid no attention to my words. Instead, she produced a syringe filled with a silver-white liquid that moved like liquid metal. “Guess what this is? Once I inject this into your body, bind your limbs, gag your mouth, and leave you in any random toilet in the slums — you'll become a latex hole that anyone can use whenever they like.” She resumed stroking my cheek. “Do you think those lowlifes will spare a prime piece like you? And even if some of them grow a conscience and report your whereabouts, how would they ever know who I am? I'd wager you don't even know how I knocked you out, do you?”

My expression must have darkened considerably by then. It was true — I had no idea how I'd been sedated, and judging by the woman's unhurried composure, this was clearly not her first time doing something like this. A deep, crushing despair surged in like relentless tides, nearly drowning out my reason. “Those proud, high-ranking officers won't bother wasting their precious time in a filthy slum. It won't be long before your disappearance becomes just another cold case, swept into the dustbin of history along with all the other unsolved files, until it's forgotten entirely.”

“But don't worry,” she suddenly brought her face close to mine. “You won't feel any pain through this process. You only need to enjoy it. Eternal bliss — isn't that wonderful?”

“Heh heh heh… don't struggle. It'll be over soon.”

The needle tip of the syringe crept slowly toward the vein in my right hand. No matter how I screamed and thrashed, I could not slow its approach. Finally, with a sharp sting, the needle found its mark and pierced the wall of my trembling arm's vein. In an instant, a sensation of spreading cold began to travel through my bloodstream, quickly saturating my entire body.

“You can think of them as a tiny swarm of nanobots. Their primary function is to maintain your physical health going forward — things like supplementary nutrition, clearing microthrombi, absorbing semen and converting it into nutrients, and so on. After all, for at least the next month you likely won't have any opportunity to move, and you won't come into contact with any food.”

“Oh, almost forgot — a pair of earplugs as well,” she fitted a pair over my ears — or rather, earphones. “This way, the only voice you'll be able to hear is mine~”

“First,” she produced a long latex tube and turned its interior toward me, “let's fit you with this mouth plug. The inside is a mould of a vagina, you know.” ”A mouth plug?” I genuinely couldn't imagine how something this long could be described as merely a mouth plug — by my estimate, it could reach all the way down into my stomach.

I obviously had no room to negotiate. The woman didn't say much more, and brought the plug toward my lips. As it drew closer — the forward end moulded in the shape of a vulva, the rear end shaped like a cock — I had no choice but to begin swallowing. As it sank deeper and deeper, wave upon wave of violent sensation flooded through me, like tides that never ceased. She clearly had no interest in being gentle, pausing only when I truly could not swallow further. Fortunately, the latex plug was quite elastic and could reshape itself to conform to my esophagus. Slowly, impossibly, I actually managed to take the whole thing down, though a nauseating, overfull pressure remained lodged in my throat.

The woman pressed a button, and the ceiling above me gradually transformed into a mirror. For the first time, I could see what I looked like now. Inside my open mouth, there was no tongue, no teeth — all of it was pressed beneath a layer of latex. Crimson latex formed a narrow, deeply folded vaginal passage, capped at the outermost end by a latex vulva that covered both my mouth and my nose entirely, though my breathing remained unaffected. The vivid red latex was strikingly mismatched with the human skin surrounding it, and I felt an odd urge to see the rest of my skin covered in latex too.

How could I be thinking that…

As though reading my thoughts, the woman smiled faintly and moved on to the next step. She applied a depilatory agent to remove all my hair, and then several slim, delicate mechanical arms drew a strange latex membrane toward my face. The inner surface of the membrane was covered densely with tiny latex tendrils that were constantly writhing, like a mass of revolting worms. As the membrane drew closer, I instinctively shut my eyes. When the latex tendrils made contact with my face, I felt a faint itching and tiny pinpricks of pain, as though each fine tendril was wriggling and trying to burrow into my pores. Additional tendrils forced their way in through the gaps of my eyelids, transforming into a film of latex that spread over the surface of my eyes. As the mechanical arms pulled it taut, the membrane gradually covered my entire head, flowing like liquid into every contour and hollow of my face, and fusing seamlessly with the vulva portion of the mouth plug. Yet, my vision remained intact. In the mirror, I could see that my head had become a smooth, gleaming black latex egg — nothing visible except for a single vivid red vulva. No other feature remained.

And yet, I felt no particular revulsion at the sight. A strange excitement swelled inside me.

Next came the latex suit. The woman dressed me in it at an unhurried pace — this one had no attached hood. The openings at the crotch and rear naturally featured the same latex vaginal structure as the mouth. Finally, the woman applied a small amount of liquid to the seam between the hood and the collar, and the two sections of latex fused together as if by magic, sealing me completely inside. She then took a small strip of latex film and placed it over the area of my eyes — a small section of one-way light-transmitting material, which had been the reason I could see through the suit at all. Now, a layer of opaque film stripped away my sight entirely.

I was now covered completely in latex. In total darkness, I felt myself being lifted. Through the earphones, isolating me from all external sound, the woman's voice came through:

“Next comes the final step. Using a mould and liquid latex to set your shape.”

Suspended in midair, I felt the mechanical arms support my body and then fold my limbs inward — like a dog-slave pose. I was then lowered into a mould. My hands and feet still had a little room to move, but my torso was locked completely in place. There was an opening at the front and back of the mould, and the vulva at my crotch and the one at my head each jutted out through a respective gap, exposed to the outside.

As the lid was sealed over the mould, liquid latex began flowing in through tubes, filling the space around my limbs. Since the vulva at my crotch and the one at my head were both outside the mould, no liquid flowed into my body, and my breathing remained unobstructed. The level rose higher and higher, and soon washed over my head entirely.

“There. It's a shame you can't see yourself right now. Your lower and upper legs have been folded and fused together — the effect is almost like an amputation. Beyond that, I've filled your upper body with latex as well. Except for the mouth vulva left exposed, nothing of the original shape is visible any more — instead, it looks identical to your lower half. Which means, viewed from either end, you look exactly the same: folded thighs, and exposed labia. A perfectly symmetrical, dual-purpose fucktoy.”

The image called to mind the mannequin from Silent Hill 2, which I'd played just recently — though my own form was considerably worse, with both upper and lower arms, and upper and lower legs, all fused together. I had found that design strangely appealing at the time. How unexpected, that one day I would become something like it myself. A dual-entry latex fucktoy… After a while, I felt myself being placed into a new container, and then came a long, bumpy journey to an unknown destination.

The slums. I had arrived at the location mentioned in the message — a shantytown at the edge of the city. The buildings were ramshackle, their walls flaking and peeling, many cobbled together from planks of wood and sheets of corrugated iron. The rooflines were low, the windows rotting, as though the whole place could collapse at any moment. Narrow alleys crisscrossed in every direction, like grim fissures in the earth swallowing all the light. The air reeked of wastewater; trash festered in every corner; pervasive dust and damp pressed in from all sides. It was hard to believe that a sprawling slum like this existed right at the edge of a thriving city.

“Ah!” Suddenly, an unfamiliar hand fell on my shoulder. Already wound to the breaking point, I jolted like a startled rabbit. I spun around — and found a tall woman. Black wide-brimmed hat. Black trench coat. Black miniskirt, black boots. Every patch of exposed skin was covered in black latex, including her face. I couldn't make out a single feature. If I was guessing correctly, she was wearing a full-coverage latex suit underneath everything.

“Neither you nor your polished, glamorous sister, ever imagined you'd have anything to do with a place like this, did you?”

It was her. “Where is my sister?!” I grabbed her wrist and ground the words out through my teeth. The woman gave a soft laugh, effortlessly shaking off my weakened grip. “Follow me.”

She led me to a low building tucked into a corner of the slums. With most of the structures here looking equally grimy and decrepit, I couldn't see anything that set this one apart. At the very moment we arrived, a vagrant with a look of obvious satisfaction was hitching up his trousers and walking out. I could read exactly what that expression meant.

“What if things are even worse than you're imagining?” Just as a terrible possibility was beginning to form in my mind, the woman's voice came to me in a low, almost demonic murmur beside my ear.

I pushed the thought away and broke free of her, running into the building. Unexpectedly, the interior was considerably cleaner than the outside — no overflowing garbage or filth, though the air was thick with the heavy scent of heather. My heart sank. I already knew almost certainly what had happened to my sister.

The room was small — sparse, really, almost empty. I swept my gaze across it and immediately fixed on an object in the centre, on top of a low platform. On the platform sat a transparent container, roughly a meter square, inside which a black shape was submerged in a murky white liquid. By any ordinary reckoning, this could not possibly be a normal human being.

The woman walked in at her leisure. “Don't rush. And as I said — things may be worse than you're imagining.” She stepped up beside the platform. “Look at this transparent container. Look carefully.”

I walked forward and studied it for a moment, and then my eyes flew open. The black shape inside was more than half submerged in what was unmistakably semen, and its form was deeply strange — it looked like two sections of a woman's lower body, severed at the thighs, joined together at the waist.

“Is this my sister?! Why does she look like this?!” I grabbed the woman by the collar. She let me vent, and unhurriedly produced a phone, opening a video. The thumbnail — which appeared to be the first frame — showed a woman restrained in a gynaecological chair. The image wasn't entirely clear, but I could still identify her.

My sister.

“Press play, and you'll know everything you want to know.”

Time is always blurred in the dark, and I hadn't been keeping track. After some indeterminate stretch, I felt the container holding me being opened. It seemed to be the same woman. She laid me on my back and placed me inside a new container. “Time to close the lid now.” Sure enough, her familiar voice came to me, and after a brief, faint sound, I was sealed inside. “We're now in the slums at the edge of the city, and you're inside a transparent container.” She then inserted two soft tubes into my mouth and vagina respectively. “These two latex tubes each have a one-way valve. I imagine you'll come to understand their purpose quite soon. Now — enjoy yourself!”

Her footsteps receded. They were replaced by a disorderly shuffle of many feet — clearly, more than one person was waiting to use me. To use me, this latex fucktoy. It didn't take long before two eager cocks pushed into my body simultaneously, front and back. This latex body seemed to have had its sensitivity amplified — the simple back-and-forth was enough to send pleasure crashing through me like the most intense orgasm I'd ever felt. Under the assault of that intense pleasure, I eagerly clenched my mouth-hole and vagina, working in time with their use of me. The resentment and fear from before seemed, washed away by pleasure, to matter far less than they had.

If I'm going to spend my life as a latex fucktoy, I might as well enjoy it…

What I didn't realize at the time was that once that thought takes root, there is no going back.

As time passed, I came to understand the purpose of the one-way valves the woman had set up. They prevented semen from flowing back out. As more and more cum was pumped into my body, my mouth, my stomach, even my intestines gradually filled to capacity. At that point, any newly injected semen had only one unblocked exit — my ass — and began to flow out through that, pooling into the container. Semen from the vagina, meanwhile, gradually seeped through the gap between the soft tube and the vaginal wall and dripped into the container as well. The level inside the container rose higher and higher, until it submerged me entirely.

What a twisted sense of humour, I thought — though I had no particular objection. I had no idea how much time had passed, but by now I couldn't live without these delicious cocks and all this cum ❤

The video ended. My heart sank to its lowest point yet. In a daze, the woman's voice reached me.

“How about a game? If you win, I'll not only restore your sister's body to normal — she'll forget all of this and go back to her ordinary life. But if you lose…” She let out a strange laugh and left the sentence unfinished. I could guess it wouldn't be anything good.

“How do we play?” ”Don't rush.” She had put on a pair of disposable white gloves at some point, and now opened the transparent container. She gripped my sister by the waist and lifted the black latex mass out of the thick semen. Only now could I see clearly — my sister's mouth-hole, vagina, and ass were all lined with vivid crimson latex, and a foul-smelling fluid was steadily seeping out of all three. Anyone who saw this scene would struggle to believe it was a living person rather than a latex toy. I could barely tell which side of the latex was covering her upper body.

“Is my sister… is she still alive?” Even after everything I'd seen in the video, I couldn't help but worry about her life. “Don't worry, your sister is doing very well. She might even be enjoying herself.”

She set my sister down gently on the floor, then turned to me: “We'll begin shortly. Though calling it a game is generous — it's really just a multiple-choice question. A question for your sister.” She gave my sister a kick, and the latex mass that had been lying still suddenly shuddered into motion. Then she and I took positions on either side of my sister, and spoke to her:

“You have two choices right now. Your family is standing directly in front of you. Crawl to them, and you go back to your normal life. Or crawl to my feet, and continue the life you've had this past month.”

At the woman's words, my sister's body began to shake violently — clearly, that life had left a profound impression on her.

But the scene I'd been expecting — my sister crawling toward me — never came. She just froze in place. She was hesitating.

“Sister, what are you thinking?! Do you actually want to stay in this filthy, stinking place forever?!”

My sister didn't answer me. She couldn't answer me — what I didn't know was that she couldn't hear my voice at all. What she could hear was entirely up to the woman standing across from me. The woman took up the thread smoothly: “And how do you know your sister doesn't enjoy this kind of life?” She looked down at my sister and continued: “Becoming a latex toilet utterly incapable of resistance, violated and gang-fucked around the clock — wasn't that always your fantasy? No endless work, no pressure of daily life — just endless pleasure. Would you really give all of this up to go back to your dull, ordinary routine?”

“That's bullshit!” I screamed at her. What kind of twisted logic was this?

But then I saw my sister actually trying to twist her body around, turning herself in the other direction.

“You see?” The woman's tone was perfectly calm — as though this was exactly what she had expected.

My instinct was to rush forward and drag my sister back. But I found I couldn't move — a large, powerfully built man had appeared behind me at some point and locked me in place. Damn — when did he get there? ”No cheating — neither side is allowed to intervene.” There was nothing I could do. I could only watch as the latex fucktoy that was, beneath it all, my sister, squirmed and wriggled toward the woman's feet, no matter how much I screamed.

Seeing my sister back at her side, the woman broke into laughter. “Oh, right — I forgot to mention. Your sister has earphones in. The only voice she can hear is mine~”

“What…”

Before I could finish, I felt a heavy blow strike the back of my head, and I lost consciousness.

The next day. In another corner of the slums, a similar latex fucktoy was installed in a room. The crowd watching let out a cheer because they knew they had one more free cum-dump to share among themselves…