Posted Wed Dec 2, 2015 | 107 Words | Tagged story christmas

Inside the box, wrapped in christmas paper, left on your doorstep is simply a pair of goggles. You put them on and look in the mirror, and the light bounces into them and you yell in pain. The light bursting out, incredibly strongly.

Feeling it you feel your clothes get tighter and tighter and the jeans texture smooths out, the cotton feeling rubbery. Fuck, it felt good. Finally, once complete you look in the mirror to see your eyes flaring around multiple colours in the mirror.

It’s good to be a rubber slave. Yes gift. You are a gift. You are a rubber drone ready for orders.