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About Deviant Morte McAdaverMale/United States Recent Activity
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Julie's expertise with Marionetics' software was only a few steps above rudimentary, but she knew enough to perform basic functions.  She brought up a map of the group's current location and noted an exit route.  As Julie prepared a requisition entry for this path, small walkway lights shone along either side of the floors, making travel easier without the alarum of waking up the entire facility.  She had seen the Masters guide their treasured servants in this way before.  However, this posed a potential problem; whatever sensors were active, they were likely expecting to detect and process four shiny marionettes. Julie apprised her companions of this hypothesis and suggested they make use of the women in the hallway outside the control room.

   The other three women wore the expressions of having been carnally implored by a lecherous man.  To say they were reluctant would be an understatement.
“You’re honestly suggesting we use them as pawns?  We should be freeing them!” Regina asserted.  
“This is probably the best choice we have,” said Kelly.  “I say we go for it.  Memory card is getting full, anyway.”
Brenda had to release some tension with a laugh.  “Well, this will be a tale to tell the husband!” she said, trying to shift her thoughts to an idyllic marriage that may or may not have existed outside the walls of Marionetics.
“It’s alright,” Julie soothed.  “We-- they like to follow and obey.  And since no Masters are here, we’re probably the next best thing.”  Julie blushed a little at her slip of the tongue.
Regina was perturbed to be in the minority, but she took the initiative by stepping outside of the control room, approaching one of the dollified women and undoing her restraining dress, revealing the tightly coated and shimmering body it contained.  She made an effort not to make eye contact with the fiery-eyed tan-skinned woman trapped within the latex suit.  She tried to turn towards Regina with affection, but the audacious journalist ordered the doll continue facing forward and to move when she gives the instruction.  Though freed from her binding dress, the woman complied readily and with a small sigh of comfort: “Yes, Mistr-” Regina silenced the woman with a hiss before the honorific title could be uttered, and she obediently settled into a readied stance, arms straightened by her side, smirking.  Regina unceremoniously discarded the rubber dress to the floor.  Her three cohorts began their approach to their respective dolls.
"That dress looks about your size.  Not going to take it home?" Brenda prodded Regina in a playful tone that was laced with flirtation.
"Now could not be less the time for this, Brenda." Regina said through her teeth.  She seemed to take it as a sleight.
“Why even remove it?” Brenda asked quizzically.
“Because I’m not like them!” Regina offered in scathing rejoinder.  She was plainly referring to the puppet masters whose methods she sought not to emulate. “And I’d pull her out of the rest of this suit if I could.”  She began to look downcast.
“But that would hurt them,” Julie offered wanly in confirmation.  Both of them knew how closely bonded the rubber was to the women.  She would need more of the chemical solution she had used on Julie to liberate them without risk of injury.
“Yeah.” Regina said, clearly not wanting to continue with the subject.  “Let’s just get this done.” Even with her diffidence, Regina maintained a commanding voice.

During the awkward silence that followed, each woman picked out a doll in the aisle.  Kelly suppressed her nervousness, mounted her camera on her shoulder with one hand, took a deep breath and grabbed the doll by the back of the neck, hands wrapped around a rubbery collar.  She tried to convince herself that her temporary slave was just a stage prop of sorts.  A stage prop that was squirming with lustful anticipation at Kelly's grasp.  Julie nodded approvingly at Kelly.  "Yes, that's the idea.  They should respond to our touch and input as we see fit."  Kelly nodded weakly, whispered something to the bound latex woman, and the two began walking forward, Kelly leading from behind.  Her doll was a pallid, pear-shaped young woman with green eyes and a blissfully blank expression.  Through the glistening, transparent coif that tightly sheathed her head, the woman’s face looked ghostly and serene.

   Brenda took her turn, drawing near to a fair-skinned rubber lady with wide, brown eyes and full lips.  She could see the elegantly-shaped woman’s countenance rise with delight as Brenda placed her hands over her neck, the two women coming face to face.  Brenda’s cheeks were flush with scarlet as bashfulness took hold.  She barely held back a nervous laugh.  “Oh, hello,” the news anchor floundered in clumsy salutation, trying to reposition her hands.  Brenda’s new rubber servant simply gazed calmly at her new mistress and exposed her collared neck.  Her expressive eyes seemed to say “it’s okay - I am yours to use.”  Brenda shivered for a moment before walking behind her new assistant and took her by the neck.  “Okay, then.  Let’s take a walk,” Brenda made an effort to sound decisive, but was smiling fatuously.  Julie found it endearing.

   Regina frowned as she shook her head, disgusted with what she was about to do.  Her fervid-eyed menial moaned quietly with anxious, bated breath, craving physical attention.  “Fine.  Let’s go.  I’m sorry about this;  I’m sorry you have to be trapped like this.”  Regina simply pushed upon the doll’s back, cringing at the touch of the rubber substance that seemed to furtively grope at her bare skinned hand in response.  The tan skinned woman imprisoned in the latex smiled and exhaled sweetly as she obeyed her new keeper.  She stifled words of reassurance to Regina, concluding that this new mistress preferred her property to be reticent.

   Julie approached her assistant-to-be.  A lithe woman with aquiline, thin facial features.  She reminded her of a skinny friend with whom she used to play games.  Could she…?  No, Julie pushed aside those thoughts as she retracted a curious hand reaching toward the girl’s face.  The objective at hand was to escape, and she had to go through with it.  Life on the other side was waiting to swallow her whole once more, and who was she to keep it waiting?  Just as well, Julie took the liberty of caressing the encased beauty.  At least she would carry fond memories of her time with Marionetics.  Maybe she could bring home this doll; she was Julie’s property now, after all.  
“Julie, are you coming or what?” asked an irritated Regina.  Julie had gotten lost in another fantasy.  She raised her head from the latex woman’s shoulder, released her affectionate arm lock from her torso, and bade her move forward.  Julie didn’t even recall embracing the doll in such a way, but she failed to feel disturbed.  Thankfully, the others didn’t notice the interaction due to the darkness of the hallway and their own forays into becoming temporary mistresses.  At least that’s what she hoped; now was not the time to arouse suspicions.

   The quartet reached their first checkpoint.  The small, ankle-level lights made their exodus easier in terms of visibility, but it also meant that certain security measures were reactivated.  As per the plan, the collared rubber dolls were made to walk in front of the human women.  As Julie predicted, the scanners that peeked from the walls and ceilings identified them as Marionetics property under the escort of Masters.  The request had been put through successfully, and the group of escapees began their departure as a large partition door rose to grant them passage.  Julie noted a blinking red light on a console adjacent to the door, but was not sure of its meaning.  Her nerves were on edge, and she was sweating.  Her companions were experiencing similar degrees of disquiet and perspiration.  There was hardly any time to think anymore.  Regina’s teeth were clenched, Kelly was panting, and Brenda was quietly repeating a mantra of “oh my god” to herself.

   After striding down a corridor that seemed to last for days, listening to the foreign sounds of technology examining them, and enduring distant activation noises from elsewhere in the facility, the unnerved chaperones and their glistening wards reached the final checkpoint.  They all couldn’t help but smile at the sense of relief that was sure to ensue upon their journey’s end.  Ahead was a chamber between two large, heavy doors with a small glass window at head level.  The walls of the room betwixt the thick doors were lined with a peculiar network of black cables and tubes, like an array of serpents.  Julie surmised that this was some kind of sanitization chamber. Accepting this and gathering themselves, Brenda, Kelly, and Regina stepped in, under the aegis of their obedient, lustrous retinue.  Julie, however, was delayed by an unexpected turn of events.

   Where three of the four burnished adherents obeyed their mistresses and continued to step forward, Julie’s doll backed away and began walking in the opposite direction, her figure swaying gracefully upon high heels as she left.  And...did she look back with a sly grin?  Something had overridden Julie’s control.  “Hey!” Julie cried out to the absconding doll, but no response was given.  The doors shut upon the three other women, immuring them.  They all turned around to face Julie, who was locked outside.  Each looked appropriately concerned, but they were preemptively interrupted from voicing their dismay.  A cleansing mist began to spray from the tubes upon the women, leaving them unsullied and polished, such as the non-rubbery women could be in their mundane attire.  The rubber dolls enjoyed a fresh sheen.  It appeared that the trio had reached a waiting period as the contraptions in the chamber became inert, or at least in some kind of standby mode.  Regina let go of her doll, and the others followed suit, turning their attention to Julie, who was looking on with chagrin.  She was looking at the console next to the forbidding door, noting the same blinking red light she had observed on the other panel.  This console was about her height and had a layout similar to the mainframe computer of which she had made use earlier, though this was considerably smaller.  The screen displayed a high definition image of the three women and the rubber servants within the sanitation/polishing chamber.  Julie looked back to her companions with dwindling hope.
“I...I don’t know what to do,” Julie said meekly.
“Can’t you work some magic on that computer?” Brenda asked, running frustrated hands through her freshly lubricated hair on whose grooming she had probably spent the entire morning.  Julie was still wearing the silvery gray blazer that Brenda loaned her.
“Damn,” Kelly grunted as she fumbled with her camera.  “Card is full,” she stated bitterly as though someone had said her paycheck would be late this week.  She turned off the camera, strapped it about her shoulder and scanned the room, preparing for the unknown.  Even hindered by the slick moisturization, Kelly deftly handled her equipment, though it was taking her longer than it typically would have.
“Julie,” Regina said morosely, “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.  If we make it out of here, is there anything you want me to say or do for you?  I don’t want to leave you behind, but…” she trailed off, remembering that consolation was not among her talents.  Her continued hope of escape was commendable.
“Just...that there are people here.  Real people with feelings, hopes, and dreams.  Maybe not their own, but,” Julie faltered in her speech, “it’s not so terrible as you make it out to be, Regina.”
Regina shook her head with sadness and agitation.  “That’s what makes me so afraid of Marionetics, Julie.  It’s the kind of thing that might become a real danger because of this contrived veneer of happiness and contentment.  We’re human beings - we weren’t meant to become objects, slaves, or property.  And I refuse to lend any credence to this method of trapping people in BDSM outfits and calling it a business model or even passing it off as some kind of benevolent social engineering.  This is more like some sick pervert's fantasy gone awry.  It’s wrong, and I’m not giving up until it’s stopped.”  Regina’s insurgent elocution was laudable, considering the circumstances.  Julie could feel only surges of despair, as opposed to the moral fervor that Regina no doubt sought to inspire.
She continued to speak: “Julie, I won’t forget you.  If I can, I’ll make sure you’re extracted from here.  Please don’t let them poison your mind anymore.”  Regina meant her words, even if she had no idea how she would even carry out such a plan, or if she would even make it out of the facility without becoming Marionetics’ latest indentured thrall.  Or dead.
Julie’s resentment was growing, and she was having trouble quelling it.  “Thank you, Regina.  I’ll be fine.  Just...everyone get out safely, please.”  As Julie spoke these somber words, the flashing red light suddenly turned a solid green, and the screen prompted her to grant access to the exit.
"You're a nice girl, Julie.  You're brave and sweet.  Take care of that jacket, okay?" Brenda gave a sincere farewell with a dash of her live television wholesome humor and a wink to boot.  She might have been shedding a tear, but Julie's attention was divided.

Julie pressed the buttons in sequence to confirm the door opening.  With a metallic hiss, the mighty door to the exit ascended while Julie's side remained shut; she could not find a way to make it budge.  Her new friends smiled in a silent 'goodbye' and left the side of their dolls.  It was then that time slowed to a crawl for Julie.  This was the kind of temporal slowdown that occurs both with great adrenaline rushes and pivotal decision-making in the face of hitherto unknown opportunities.  Truly, was this not the point of the story when the heroine, the noble and selfless Julie sacrifices herself in some way for a 'greater good?' Wasn't it the right and expected course of action to facilitate the release of these women so that they might one day defeat the evil entity called Marionetics and possibly save her and many others from their clutches one day?  All these questions and more were a tempest in Julie's mind.

Cutting through this storm of uncertainty came Julie's righteous resentment.  She was so happy before this escapade; she finally felt important, loved, and at peace.  She had known the luxury of life's purpose finding her.  And this Regina, the intrepid journalist with an ax to grind had to take it all away from her.  She tried to tell Julie that Marionetics was some odious monster.  She tried to make Julie think that her life for the last ten months was some kind of error; that she was a victim.  She had to get Kelly and Brenda involved in her scheme, too.  Brenda, who was already coming willingly to Marionetics, now under duress to follow Regina.  All too human Regina.  She wants to save the planet, make people’s lives better, end oppression, stop war and poverty, or any other gallant cause espoused by champions of truth and justice.  But what was she accomplishing by undermining Marionetics?  Julie could only see the good that her proprietors were offering.  She reflected on all the boons bestowed in her dollhood, the advanced technology that they must hold to achieve such high levels of living quality, and the intent behind it all...it had to be philanthropic.  Would it be so bad if their influence spread far and wide?  If they touched more lives?  It was all starting to make sense.  The certitude was enchanting.  How often did opportunities like this come around, only to be cast aside?  Julie admired her misguided rescuers all the same, but she now had a chance to make her own ending to the story.  This was her chance to be a heroine to herself.  She quickly began to input a new sequence to the door console.  

          As her former companions eagerly marched towards the opening leading to the exit, the partition abruptly rose again, thwarting the escape.  The shiny, rubbery tendrils in the walls began to writhe and awaken, poised to strike at the unauthorized female beings that now stood dumbfounded.  Julie's smile rarely looked so gorgeous as it did at that moment.  She felt herself returning to a better place already.  The ornery glare of Regina could practically be felt like a ray of blazing heat.  Before any of the women could voice their fear, alarm, or contempt, the appendages of the wall began their attack.  Kelly and Brenda were caught flat-footed and ensnared in the mass of tendrils, which coiled firmly around their limbs.  They were screaming, but it was muffled by questing, ropy limbs that began to coalesce, forming a hood-like casing that began to engulf the two women.  Regina managed to dodge the rubbery volley, leaping towards the opposite door, eyed fixed upon the treacherous Julie.  She was spouting expletives in her stressed efforts to avoid entanglement.  Seconds passed at an excruciatingly slow pace, but Regina soon slid her way to the window from which Julie was watching dark events take their course.

“I was such an idiot to trust you,” Regina spat.  “I’d ask if you were happy, but I suppose you will be once your precious ‘masters’ drag you back into the fold.  Unbelievable.”  Regina’s baneful words did not faze Julie as they once could.
“You act as though you know what is best for all of us.  Perhaps you simply need to see it from a new perspective,” Julie replied with a mechanical dignity.


       Regina, realizing the futility of attempting debate at this juncture, turned back her attention to the precarious dilemma at hand.  Survival instincts took over as she darted towards Kelly, who was being constricted by the rubber cables, all solidifying as a matrix to form a glistening, sable cocoon.  Her camera hung by her shoulder, and Regina, acknowledging that rescue was beyond her capabilities, briskly opened a compartment at the camera’s base and snatched the memory card.  If she was to make a getaway, she would at least have evidence of her ordeal.  Kelly paid her employer no heed; her entrapment was starting to become rapturous.  Tendrils both beneath and above the presently-forming cocoon were groping and caressing her as they coiled, adding further polish and lubrication to the rubbery surface as the trap was spun around their quarry.  Their movements could be described as amorous.  Regina turned her head and saw that Brenda was in the same predicament.  It pained her to see her erstwhile escape companions affected by whatever euphoria-inducing chemicals that Marionetics were likely injecting.  She cringed at the sight, feeling powerless to stop what she saw as an atrocity.  Having both the memory card in her pocket and Julie’s second-skin sample served to maintain her sanity.

   Meanwhile, the dolls remained impassive, save for the one released from her dress by Regina.  She took an interest in her panicked mistress, who was pocketing a small, square-shaped memory card.  The lights the facility were slowly coming back on, flickering and gradually rising in luminosity.  Regina saw this and had to openly exclaim “no!” as her head flitted around in consternation.  She felt two smooth, slippery hands clasp her face at the cheeks.  A seductive, tan-skinned, fiery-eyed rubber woman smiled from beneath a bleary hood that shifted sensually with her breathing.  She appeared intent on bringing her lips closer to Regina’s.  The rebellious reporter was momentarily stunned.  Lurid images flashed before her: Regina’s own face reflected in the tempting doll-woman’s coif, devoid of human expression and mirth, save for the erroneous glee imposed by Marionetics’ doctrine.  Regina quaked with fear at this potentiality.  She couldn’t yet form words in her state of shock.  The doll grinned confidently as she moved a hand down to Regina’s breast.

   Julie was lost in the exhilaration of the spectacle before her.  It was as though she was watching the thrilling conclusion to a movie or series through the glass screen.  So invested in the fates of the three women was Julie that she was completely startled when a smooth, feminine latex hand placed itself onto the back of her shoulder, promptly removing Brenda’s blazer in a single motion.  “Ah!” Julie exclaimed.
“Hi!” a mollifying female voice said.  Her timbre was breathy and sultry, speaking to Julie as though to a familiar friend who happens to also be her property.  When Julie turned around, she saw a woman clad completely in rubber, hued black with vermillion trim.  The coat she wore seemed akin to a military uniform, though it was form-fitted and blended seamlessly with the catsuit form of the latex outfit.  She was also hooded in a black hood with a translucent veil shaped around the face.  The widow’s peak pattern on the top of her hood made for an intense look.  Her features were catlike, with piercing eyes and full lips that gave a keen, desirous smile.  Her corset and heels made her appear towering and imperial.  As the Marionetics lighting system continued to be restored, Julie noted the figure of the woman: her breasts were ample, and her shape was almost supernaturally impressive.  It was a dazzling near-exaggeration of the female form.  Something about the color red on this stately woman made Julie feel safe and alleviated.  She was here to set things right.  The crimson domina gently turned Julie’s head back to the window to resume looking.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she remarked with a smirk.  Julie began to utter a reply, but was cut short as the tall woman deftly fastened a rubber collar around her neck, laughing softly to herself in amusement.  Collared once again, Julie’s elation could scarcely be overstated.  She watched Regina being accosted by the libidinous doll and remembered how she fantasized about Regina in an outfit quite similar to the one worn by her current ebony and carmine subjugator. She wondered if any comparable thoughts had gone through Regina’s rigid mind.  Even she had to have intimate desires, after all.

   By now, Kelly had been completely absorbed by the infesting, glistening cocoon.  Only a single tube connected to her mouth and terminated at the ceiling allowed for breathing, and all of her nerves were completely pacified.  The camera lay discarded on the floor.  Marionetics already had a position lined up for the camerawoman.  The rubbery chrysalis embraced and cradled Kelly as she drifted into unconsciousness and her nascent, new existence.

   Brenda wriggled against the growing strength of the enveloping rubber, though not out of any semblance of struggle.  On the contrary, she had breached the threshold of fear and felt long-suppressed primal needs flooding to the surface.  As her encasement proceeded, the tendrils guided her eager hands down between her legs, where they would remain as the process continued unabated.  She would fall into a blissful slumber as a violet, silicone apparatus lowered from the ceiling and placed itself around Brenda’s lips.  Marionetics needed more like her, and now they had their acquisition. The company had followed her for some time, and it seemed that Brenda was slated for a promotion with a new employer.

“You’re so beautiful,” cooed the fiery-eyed doll whose infatuation with Regina was all too apparent.  “The Masters will be here soon.  I can feel them.  They want you to claim me.  I want to become yours.”  The excitement in her voice was palpable.
“Stop…” Regina said timidly.  She didn’t feel like herself.  The lights were coming on, and there seemed to be nowhere to run.  Doubt and defeat were rife within her.  She managed to reach for the doll’s hand on her cheek and push it down to her waist.  The marionette only took this as a cue to hold Regina by the hip.
“Why are you doing this?  Why are you all like this?  Why won’t you let me go in peace?”  Regina pleaded.  She had been in dangerous settings before, but nothing like this.
The enslaved woman’s smile lessened, but only to take on a cognizant expression that chilled Regina to the bone.  “Because this is what we want.  This is what should be.  Soon, you will understand.  Soon, I will be yours.”  The doll’s voice was tranquil and absolute.

   Regina looked askance.  Words failed her.  She peered to the side as the facility lights were now activated in full splendor.  The heavy door was opening and several inky-fleshed men, completely shrouded in Marionetics’ rubbery membrane were gathered outside, blocking the exit.  Regina’s vision was still adjusting to the lucent change of scenery, but she caught her breath, regained her poise, and saw her opportunity.  The faceless men began their advance, and Regina broke the hold of the sensual doll woman, making a desperate and dextrous sprint.  She was still lubricated from the spray and being brushed by the wall’s tentacles; she used her slick coating to her advantage in escaping the grasping appendages.  The men extended their arms and turned their attention to the recalcitrant Regina.  Julie and her uniformed keeper watched with awe as the journalist nimbly navigated a path through the coterie of Masters.  She was grappled briefly, but her impetus for escape was not so easily undone.  Even the Masters’ mental urgings did not seem to weaken her resolve.  Adrenaline was a potent boon.  Regina had slipped through their defenses and was approaching a huge pair of doors, which were slowly closing.  The area beyond looked white from her temporary vision impairment.  She had plenty of time to make a beeline for the exit, but…

   Bizarre, unnamable feelings wormed their way into Regina’s thoughts.  It was her turn for time to slow down in a dramatic fashion.  She looked back for a moment at the sleek, robust latex men that she narrowly evaded.  How long had it been since she even had a chance to enjoy tender intimacy with a man?  She had taken on so many responsibilities in her work - the onus of showing the world the ugly truths that inexorably made Regina’s world seem uglier as she delved deeper into the human condition.  Even this synthetically elegant facility, filled with functional beauty and unity the likes of which she had never seen before seemed foul to her.  The advanced, cutting edge technology and genius that surely went into creating this place and performing its functions eluded Regina’s appreciation.  Her friends were few, and lovers even fewer.  She held in her pocket the means to expose Marionetics and stir a public outrage, but she also had the option to simply give in to them.  It’s true: she did not know how it felt to belong to Marionetics, and she was far too intelligent not to wonder and ask “what if?”  All it would take is to lay hands upon that handsome, chiseled body of one of those men, and melt into his arms, safely and peacefully.  It would be so easy to let down her burdens, virtues, and journalistic encumbrance and finally...conform.

   Regina wailed furiously aloud as she purged these thoughts from her mind and resumed her flight.  The Masters did not catch her, and she would continue being herself: the all too human Regina.  The Marionetics membrane skin sample and digital evidence of her experience would be revealed to the outside world.  Her iron will stymied the designs of Marionetics for the time being, and she had her victory, such as it was.  As promised, she would never forget Julie.  

The crimson woman was petting Julie on her naked back.   “Well, that was lovely.  You did very well, latex doll Julie.”  Her words were already making Julie feel rewarded.  The superior woman pressed a few keys in sequence on the door console, opening the passage fully.  Kelly and Brenda were sweetly writhing in their rubberized torpors, and the rubber dolls were waiting patiently, regarding the woman with reverence and deference.
“Mistress?”  Julie hesitantly spoke up with curiosity, unsure if that was the correct address to be using.
“Yes, darling?” the woman replied in her airy alto, welcoming Julie’s inquiries.  She seemed content with the ‘mistress’ title for now.
“I’m sorry that Regina got away,” Julie swallowed nervously, “and that she took my...uniform.  She even has video footage of all this,” she said contritely. “I should have done better.”
The imposing woman made a casual sound that was the universally recognized communique of ‘not to worry, these things happen, nobody’s perfect, and so forth,’ as she finished whatever she was doing on the console and turned her attention back to the Julie, looking at her collar.  It had a garnet in the center.
“Am I going to be punished?  I want to be rubberized again.  Please.  I don’t care if I can’t think anymore.”  Julie was desperate to be given some kind of closure.
The high ranking lady fixed Julie with her striking hazel eyes.  “You will always be Marionetics property, Julie.  You have proven that today, and you will have your wish.  Regina...was that her name?  We will handle her.  She is bound to us now more than she realizes.”
“But what about the public?  If people knew, I don’t think they would understand.  They might--” Julie’s fears were allayed by a silencing latex finger laid perpendicular on her lips.  
“I think we have the kind of PR to placate the masses,” the woman turned towards Brenda, still enjoying the device imbedded in her mouth.  “And if that fails,” she paused, remembering herself with a chuckle at the dark secrets she nearly blurted out, “well, I’ve said enough.  Come, Julie.  You have done your duty and earned your reward.  Are you ready for what comes next?”
“Yes,” Julie smiled her signature smile, “I am ready, Mistress.”
“Good girl.  We have new uses for you after you’re all processed and polished.”  The one Julie called ‘Mistress’ guided her to the throng of rubber tendrils that Regina had managed to avoid.  They were due for a fresh prisoner, and Julie settled neatly into their cool, balmy recesses.  It felt like she was once more being stroked and tenderly seized by myriad hands of the Masters.  Indeed, perhaps she was, in a sense.  Not all of them necessarily took humanoid form, after all, the strange fellows.  Fatigue and respite came over Julie, and as the rubber tightened around her, she fell into darkness and dreams, wafting in memories of her initial transformation.  


(End of Part 3)

(Epilogue)

   Julie woke to the wet rustling of rubber hands caressing a gleaming rubber body.  She was seated upon a cozy, latex-upholstered chair, and someone was polishing her.  She looked up to see a head covered in blue and black rubber with a translucent panel revealing a familiar face.  Brenda smiled delightfully as she worked to prepare Julie to look her shiniest and prettiest.  She was dressed in a sapphire-hued business suit with a ruffled blouse and straight pencil skirt to match.  It was like the colors of the ocean, cascading in waves of black, blue, and reflections of light.  She was mesmerizing; the colors were very becoming on her.  She wore a black rubber collar with a peculiar azure gem set in the middle.  
“Good morning, Julie!” she greeted brightly.  “I’m nearly ready for you.”
“Mmm,” was all Julie could manage as she gathered her senses.  She felt far better than she did the last time she woke up to Brenda’s voice.  She wondered if Brenda intended to have some play time with Julie.  Women weren’t typically her preference, but she had enjoyed sensual female encounters before her capture, and figured she at least owed Brenda some intimate companionship for all her compassion.  If she wanted it, of course.  She did look especially attractive in her outfit.  Come to think of it, the rubberized newscaster appeared somehow younger.  Brenda finished setting up some equipment that Julie could not see at the time.  “Kelly, activate,” she said and smirked, enjoying her newly found confidence in issuing commands.  Of course, she enjoyed showing professional manners as befitting a newswoman of her stature. “If you’d be so kind.”  A sleek, mechanical signal could be heard coming from a source that stood in between Brenda and Julie.

   Julie opened her eyes.  It felt euphoric to be gazing through the transparent rubber veil once again.  Feeling it against her face, reminding her of what she truly was: Julie the latex doll, the model employee of Marionetics.  She looked to her side and saw a central figure clad entirely in black latex skin, much like the mindless marionettes used for service and maintenance.  This one, however, wore a distinctive headset that seemed to serve as a video capturing device.  Her arms were bound in a supple, rubberized dress that moved dynamically alongside the human body trapped within its confines with remarkable tensile strength and versatility.  Kelly had become a camera-woman in a more literal sense, and Julie smiled at the lens projecting from the silent, watching doll.  This outcome was pleasing to her in so many ways, and her arousal was only just beginning.  She glanced to the other side to see a handful of other marionettes outfitted like Kelly, set to capture different angles.  Julie eagerly wondered what was happening to warrant such attentions.

   Brenda sat down upon a shiny chair identical to Julie’s.  She consulted an electronic tablet to review some talking points, and then looked up, smiling cordially at Julie, who was now returning the congenial beam and staring with rapt attention.  Roving hands beneath the surface of the seats moved sensually, making their way to each woman.  They were a living part of the furniture, it seemed; another innovative use of abducted humans brought to us by Marionetics.  Julie's legs parted as a hand reached inwards.  Brenda's furnished paramour slid a hand into her skirt.  Both women sighed as they gyrated slowly forward to immerse the fingers of what appeared to be glossy marionettes that had been merged with the chairs.  It was an auspicious start to the promotional interview of a model employee.


“Hello, Julie.  I would like to talk with you about Marionetics.  Tell me everything that you enjoy about being a rubber doll.”


End.

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(Part 2)

Julie woke up to the sound of three women conversing, or rather arguing in hushed tones.  The sensation was an unpleasant crescendo of unwanted noise bringing her to the waking world, as though a housemate had risen early to have a spirited morning chat with uninvited guests.  With her regained senses also came the stark realization that she was no longer encased in shiny rubber. In fact, she was quite naked, and the vulnerability she felt now was far from the pleasant security she had come to know.  She was on the floor, and she felt cold.  Even her hair was starting to grow back in a shadowy brunette outline, giving a bristly texture.  Julie wanted nothing more than to slip back into sleep and wake up in her quarters, freed from this terrible nightmare.  Alas, reality impelled her to acknowledge the situation and react accordingly.  So many human instincts and limitations were reactivating, and a lethargic Julie opened her eyes.

Three women were holding heated palaver in a corridor of the facility.  The lights were still off, but the trio had prepared sources of illumination.  One had a chest mounted flashlight, another was a camera-woman whose lens likely had night vision, and the third was using her cell phone as a "torch."  All three women looked to be in their late twenties to mid-thirties.
"Haven't you seen enough?  This place is a horror show." A bold and contemptuous woman spoke.  She was slender and dressed fashionably, but with an eye for utility.  Soft and fitted cargo pants, a sleeveless puce-colored top, and a few pieces of jewelry.  Her vanity and grooming could not be denied, for she knew that she was attractive, but that was eclipsed by a larger driving purpose.   She had brown eyes and dyed plum hair that was in a bobbing style that framed her face, but it was more vogue than the cosmetic rubber serving dolls; this woman did not have bangs.  Her lips were full, and her expression riddled with determination, anger, and conviction.  Whatever she was doing, it was out of deeply held principle.  She wore a flashlight on her chest.  Julie admired her dominant presence.
"Oh please.  Are you scared of the dark all of a sudden?  You’re just making this worse.  And it could have been a quick, polite visit." A second woman spoke - the one holding the cell phone.  Her hair was blonde and shoulder-length, and it seemed to be prepared for an interview.  She was dressed in a blazer and pencil skirt, much like a news broadcaster.  In fact, Julie found her voice to be familiar, but could not place it.  The professional suit was well-tailored and of a matte silvery gray with an elegant white blouse.  She wore high heels that were modern, practical, and prevalent in the fashion world, or so Julie presumed.  This newswoman wore an expression of desperate optimism even as the brunette antagonized her.  Her youthful, azure eyes held an innocent hope that everything would somehow work out for the best as long as everyone was civilized and orderly.  One might speculate that she considered herself a pillar of societal stability.  This woman’s appearance pleased Julie the most.
“Hey, she’s waking up,” the third woman said flatly.  She was holding a moderately sized camera, portable but high quality.  Her skin was brown and her hair short and unkempt.  She was wearing black shorts and an old brown T shirt.  She was curvaceous in the hips, and seemed decently muscled and athletic.  Fashion trends did not move the needle for this one; getting the job done with minimal nonsense was her mission.  The camera-woman would have seemed diffident or apathetic to a casual observer, but she had in fact cultivated a demeanor of professional stoicism.  Julie enjoyed her quiet and dutiful bearing; it reminded her of herself.  Moreover, it reminded her of those industrious marionettes that kept the facility in working order.

All three ladies turned to look at the unclothed Julie, who was pulling herself to a sitting position.  The brunette woman grew irritated and rubbed her forehead in frustration.  Julie noticed that she kept glancing at a bag which was strapped about her shoulder.
"Great," she said sardonically. "I shouldn't have wasted so much time trying to talk sense into you.  Now she's going to be a problem.  I'm getting out of here.  Come on, Kelly."
Kelly was evidently the camera-woman's name.  Wordlessly, she began to follow.
"Regina, how could you leave this poor girl like that?  For all your talk of human rights violations, you seem totally fine with abandoning her,” said the hopeful blue-eyed woman.
Regina, the fierce-eyed woman turned from her exit to confront the blonde woman who provoked her with those words.  "Listen, Brenda: she is compromised.  There is nothing we can do for her.  Once I expose this company, maybe then she can be freed, but for now-"
Regina's scolding was interrupted by the now standing Julie.  “I’m right here, and I can hear you.  My name is Julie.”
The blonde woman named ‘Brenda’ grinned at what she took as a small victory.  “You see?  She’s fine.  We don’t need to be skulking about like criminals.  Julie, dear, which way to your superiors?  I think we can sort this all out.”
Julie replied while an exasperated Regina scanned her surroundings for an escape route: “they...used to be everywhere.  Always watching and protecting us.  It’s so cold...what happened?”  Julie sullenly asked, realizing that no Master was nearby to guide her.  The sanctuary of the Marionetics compound had been drastically changed, and it seemed that not a single rubberized humanoid was to be seen.  Julie was confused and frightened at this sudden change, and it was all she could do not to cry.  She began to shiver.

“Oh, no!  Let me help you, honey.”  Brenda removed her blazer coat and draped it over Julie’s shoulders.  The gesture was appreciated, and Julie felt a surge of warmth at the display of human kindness.  She thought of what a wonderful rubberized servant Brenda would make, and how that compassion could be amplified and put to use.  Wait, no - she shook her head and refocused.  Of course, now she recognized this newswoman: it was Brenda McLean from QNN news!  She wasn’t particularly starstruck, but she was a well-known anchor.  What was she doing here?  Julie smiled knowingly at her and said “thank you.  You’re very nice.”  Brenda saw the look of recognition in Julie’s eyes, and it made her glad.  Brenda’s warm demeanor made the moment much less awkward for Julie.

       Regina was already halfway down a nearby corridor with Kelly, moving at a hurried pace.  “Hey, wait up!” called Brenda as she pulled Julie by the arm to follow.  Regina and Kelly gave an admonishing shush and Brenda reluctantly complied.  Julie did not know where they were going - she did not know, nor care to know of any exits to this place.  As she followed Regina, who seemed to be some kind of crusading activist by her mannerisms, Julie began to experience pangs of responsibility, curiosity, and...guilt?  A panic stirred within her, and she wondered if she had lost connection to her Masters and fellow dolls forever.  Until she knew more, she would opt help these intruders.  

Regina led the group through darkened aisles and passages, all seeming to lead nowhere.  The facility was labyrinthine and unfamiliar, even to Julie.  All the while, the itinerant leader was glancing fastidiously at her bag and occasionally back to Julie.  They were moving quickly, and as stamina reserved depleted, the time for a rest came.  Regina, Brenda, Kelly, and Julie all found an alcove off to the side of a hallway and took a moment to sit or lean against a wall.  
“Damn,” Regina muttered in a huff.  “What’s with this place?  I tried retracing my steps, but everything is suddenly different.  I don’t know how much time we have left.”
“What are you on about?” asked Brenda, growing impatient.  “Do you know something we don’t?”
“I know a hell of a lot more than you, Ms. McLean,” Regina said with growing truculence.  “As a journalist who actually cares about the real story, I ought to!”
Brenda gasped with incredulity.  “Excuse me, but I was all set to interview these ‘Marionetics’ people and get the story through legitimate channels.  You might find my approach a little easier than...whatever nonsense you pulled to break into here!”
“You didn’t have to tail me, you know,” Regina said.  “You could have just gone to your new overlords and taken whatever story they wanted to feed you.”
Kelly was inching her way into the chamber in which they stood, camera forward.  She had spotted something.  Julie observed curiously.
“Classic Regina: always with the conspiracy theories.  No wonder you lost your job.  Why are we traipsing around in the dark like this?  Was this your plan?”  Brenda inquired with antipathy.
“I called in a favor from a very tech-savvy friend, okay?  This blackout probably saved your life, you know,” Regina retorted as she began to follow Kelly.  “But then again, who knows?  You might fit in pretty well here.”  Julie smiled a bit at the thought of Brenda ‘fitting in.’
“Check it out,” Kelly said as she turned the camera towards a glistening, cocooned figure in the wall of the room.  It had a feminine shape and was in a deep slumber, fully outlined in a second layer of clear latex over her original shiny black coating.  She was breathing through a tube connected with cables to the ceiling.  Julie was pleased to see this woman in a state of such bliss and safety, even as it filled her with envy.  
“Take a good look, Brenda.  This is what they do to you.  We’re just commodities to them,” Regina stated staunchly.  Brenda was bewildered and simply gazed at the encased woman.
“She’s happy in there,” Julie interjected.
Regina turned to Julie and Kelly aligned the camera towards her, red “recording” light active.
“You weren’t asked,” Regina said with calm condescension.  “Be quiet and let us work.”  Julie would have been wounded by the harsh tone with which this journalist woman spoke, but she instead found herself filled with respect and comfort at her admonishing command.  She began to imagine Regina rubberized, dressed in black and red and in uniform, enforcing Marionetics’ policies and ensuring the safety and rubberization for all under her jurisdiction.  Oh what a beautiful security doll she would be…
“And stop gawking at me like that!” Regina added.  She suddenly seemed nervous, but her forbidding abjuration promptly removed Julie from her perverse trance.  She felt embarrassed at her loss of focus, but at least these thoughts were keeping her warm.  The blazer only provided so much in the way of heat.
As this was happening, Brenda had approached the unknown woman trapped in her glossy insulation.  She apprehensively ran her hand over the rubbery substance, and the woman made a contented moan and writhed sensually.  Brenda would never have dared admit it, but she enjoyed doing that.  The newswoman gasped as Regina and Kelly turned around, startled.
“Don’t touch them!” Regina spat.  Gathering herself, Regina regained her composure, glanced at her bag, sighed, and looked at the women around her.  “Come on, we have to keep moving.  Kelly, did you get the footage?”  With a nod, Kelly resumed following Regina in her egress.  Brenda trotted after, and Julie calmly walked behind all of them.
“Now hold on a minute!” Brenda spoke to the omitting ears of Regina and Kelly.  “Maybe you ought to answer some questions.  What do you know about this place?  And why are you so obsessed with whatever you’ve got in the bag?”
“It’s a container filled with whatever substance Marionetics used to ensnare Julie.  I followed the story of her disappearance and did some detective work.  I injected her with a heavy dose of muscle relaxers - or so I was told by my contact.  Whatever the case, it sloughed off her…’membrane’ and put her to sleep.   I’m bringing this back to my contact so we can figure out what this company is doing to people.  Julie was taken, along with dozens of others, and I seem to be one of the only people who actually gives a damn about it.”  When asked for the truth, Regina’s response tended to be an effusion of more information than was expected.

       Upon hearing this, Julie’s human anxieties flared and it was as though the weight of what was done to her was dropped from a skyscraper onto her heart.  Her vacant tone vanished and took on a worried, fretful quality: “you...came looking for me?”  Regina’s pace slowed as she sighed with resignation.
“Julie, do you know how many friends and family have been worried sick about you?  You had a job, friends, loved ones - a life!”  Regina was trying in vain not to blurt out this upsetting news, and she took no joy in seeing Julie’s reaction.  “You had to have known that people cared.”

       Julie could only stammer quietly as horribly familiar feelings cascaded through her.  She was missed - of course she was.  Wasn’t it obvious that something like this would happen?  She thought of the torment she must have caused by her disappearance.  Even little grievances like food left to rot in a refrigerator and unpaid bills displayed vividly in her mind.  She effectively abandoned her responsibilities with reckless abandon.  She felt immature and foolish; like she was malingering from life itself.  But maybe this wasn’t her fault.  She tried to remember if she resisted her rubbery captors at all, even with merely a defiant word or two.  No, she went willingly.  It all felt too good.  And that just made it worse. She agonized over having chosen some euphoric, contrived existence over being an adult woman.  Intrusive thoughts were shouting invectives into the poisoned echo chamber of her mind, proclaiming her weakness.  Tears that she hadn’t known in many months came to her eyes, and her lips tightened with the distress of it all.

       Regina ceased her stride for a moment to offer some unexpected compassion to Julie.  She awkwardly placed a hand on Julie’s shoulder and spoke sympathetically, with no hint of her usual fervor: “Hey, I know you were taken here against your will.  No one is blaming you for this, and I didn’t mean to be so callous.”  Brenda scoffed at that and Regina gave a baleful, sideways glance.  “But,” Regina continued, “we have to get out of here.  The power will return at some point.  If you’re really ready to come back to the world and let everyone know you’re still alive, then come with me.”

       Julie sniffled as she made an admirable effort to be resilient.  “Okay...yes.  I’ll come with you.  I’m so sorry.”  She barely knew why she was saying these things.  Some unnamable obligation or dread seemed to be forcing the words from her mouth.  Everything felt wrong, and it was as though she had failed in some egregious way.  Maybe it was time to make a triumphant comeback to the world of flesh and blood as strong and independent modern woman.  Julie wiped a tear and struggled to form a smile, to no avail.

       Regina began to look hopeful.  Maybe her mission would be a success after all, she thought.  It was looking as though Julie might actually be redeemable.  Her moment of succor came to an abrupt end as the sound of clacking footsteps could be heard down a nearby corridor.  Brenda McLean said it first: “let’s go!”  And they stalked off, surreptitiously and swiftly as they could.  Their egress was harried all the more by sights of women suspended in chrysalises, incubation tubes, and vacuum-sealed panels clinging to walls, all of them breathing through tubes connected to rubbery masks.  It made the place seem like a living maze that had maliciously ensnared the fleeing women, and was conspiring to place them in a state of polished paralysis like the others.  The Marionetics facility was asleep, but alive and dreaming, instilling perverse dreams into its captives as the idle machinery continued to hum quietly.

       After fleeing their pursuer and the steps could no longer be heard, the group found themselves next to a narrow hallway branched off from a furnished suite.  Julie knew where they were: they were nearing a control console room, and it wasn’t far from the main entrance.  But how did she know that?  Latex doll Julie hadn’t worked in those areas.  She shared this unbidden knowledge with the group as though she had simply remembered it.  Indeed, it seemed they were all following Julie’s lead, for none of them wished to admit that they were lost.  They stopped in the furnished room before proceeding. As expected, every couch, chair, and other soft surface was rubberized, luxurious, and inviting.  Brenda, who had been uncharacteristically taciturn since the encounter with the cocooned woman, took the liberty of sitting down on a couch to catch her breath.  Her hands were already idly touching the fabric, though her pensive expression belied her burgeoning curiosity.
"I guess this is where I would have sat for the interview," Brenda mused wistfully.
"Yeah, and now you know the truth about these abducting creeps.," Regina said flatly.
"Not really," Brenda replied. "This all raises more questions than it answers.  Julie, dear?" Brenda turned to the former rubber doll.  “How did you feel when you were…’employed’ by Marionetics?”
“Brenda, what are you doing?” Regina arched a brow.
“Journalism.  Let her answer, please.”  Brenda’s calmness was a little chilling.  Kelly turned the camera to frame Julie and her interviewer, reacting on professional instinct.
"It was really nice.  Everything made sense, and ran on a schedule.  I felt useful and valued.  I was in a near constant state of bliss," Julie recounted, trying in vain not to sound like she missed it.
"I imagine opium dens have similar accounts," Regina added sardonically, tapping her foot.
"That shiny second skin, what was that like?" Brenda continued, undaunted.
"Tight at first, but then it just feels like a shelter that you never want to leave." Julie tittered softly, "and I suppose we never did." Her smile was making a comeback.
"That's not real life, Julie.  You were a slave.  A tool.  No thoughts or aspirations of your own.  Is that how you want to live?" Regina interrogated.  Julie didn't answer, for she knew she didn't have a satisfactory response.
"Can we leave this nefarious corporate hellhole, now?  Let's get to that control room." Regina was impatient as ever, and rightly so.  She was starting to wonder if she and Kelly were the only sane women left in the building.
Brenda smiled and nodded at Julie.  “Thank you, Julie.  I think we got an important piece of the story.  I’ll have more questions for you if we manage to leave; you can come straight to the studio and we’ll take care of you.  We’ll help Regina break this story to the world,” she concluded in a tone both helpful and passively jabbing at Regina.
Regina’s eye rolling may as well have been audible.  Julie began to feel hopeful.  She also was admiring Kelly as she walked away,Regina in tow.  Such a gorgeous figure.  How lovely she and her scrutinizing camera would look rubberized and put to use in surveillance or espionage.  There was nothing to interrupt her wandering imagination this time, though she maintained her stride and followed the women.  Lastly, Brenda stood up from the couch, stealing one last brush of the rubber furniture with her hand as she rose, ready to resume the journey.  She did not notice the prowling, liquid rubber hands that prowled from within the couch’s cushioning, searching for the curious hand that was affectionately caressing their oubliette.

       With Regina taking the helm, she hurriedly walked towards the alleged control room of which Julie spoke.  In her haste, she failed to notice the stolid rubber woman with whom she collided.  Regina gasped as she tripped and clumsily returned to equilibrium.  A glistening, jovial woman’s face looked onward at Regina from beneath a transparent latex hood.  Wryly grimacing, Regina tried to ignore the doll and continue forward, but it seemed the aisle was lined with similar woman standing upright, motionless in some halcyon torpor.  There were five of them, all awake and breathing, yet non-reactive to the interlopers.  Each of them was in a cocoon dress with arms bound and waists cinched, and they were standing adjacent to open doors on either side of the hall.  Regina had to elbow her way past them.  Kelly raised her camera above her head, trying to avoid scraping these unsullied, beautiful obstacles.  Her hips brushed the dolls and they adjusted to face her.  “This keeps getting weirder,” Kelly assessed, still sounding aloof in spite of her nervous, sweaty brow.  Brenda was less shy with the constrained women, looking them directly in the eye with fascination and an underlying prurience.  She wanted to caress them and hear their contented murmurs, but she restrained eager hands and shook her head, as if remembering something she had neglected.  Brenda, for all the glamour of a mainstream newscaster, was a conventional woman with conventional fears and fetters.  Julie was last in line, but tried to be circumspect as her companions.  She also tried to feel sorry for the still, rubberized women with whom she once shared kinship.  She tried to tell herself that they were victims of some hegemonic entity that was subverting human society, but it was only Regina’s voice that she heard saying such things, not her own.  Her revolutionary virtues and promulgations seemed to only sap Julie’s energy.  

       As Julie passed between the cluster of dolls, she could not help suspiring as their faces and bodies actively rubbed against her, as if preparing to welcome her back into the fold.  The wet crinkling of the latex filled the eerie silence of the hallway.  Julie wanted nothing more at that moment than to reciprocate their sentiments and allow the Masters to take each one of them back for processing and polishing.  But the lingering anxiety of human affairs took hold once again and she pressed forward.

       The control panel was located on a spacious balcony chamber that overlooked a warehouse filled with crates and other containers.  It certainly didn’t seem like an exit area, but Julie knew that it was.  The convoluted control panel of the station was dimly lit, presumably powered by a backup generator.  Julie’s rescuers began to fiddle with the myriad buttons and screens of which the console was composed.  Their eagerness to leave was all too apparent as freedom seemed so near, yet for all their ardor, the technology did not yield.  Julie discreetly stepped forward, an astute smile gracing her lips.  The system recognized her, as she knew it would.  Certain “instincts” were taking hold, and she welcomed this surge of proficiency.  A grid formed across multiple screens to display an interactive map.  As Julie’s rescuers looked at her with anticipation, tension, and growing panic, she knew exactly what to do.  They had little choice but to place their trust in her.  None of them could have known at the time, but somewhere in the Marionetics compound, an unknown figure making clacking boot-falls was headed in their direction.
Just put out my first foray into rubbery fetish fiction.  Cheers.  8-)

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                 Ten months had passed since Julie was taken by the ones she came to call “Masters.”  She happily went about her duties for Marionetics, overseen by electric eyes that circumscribed the sanitized room in which she worked.  The vast chamber was like a scene from a science fiction novel - something she once fancied before this euphoric sentient skin overtook her. She was a model employee - enthralled, collared, rubberized, and glad for her station.  Everything was going according to routine.  It was a routine she had come to love, and looked forward to furthering the Masters’ agenda.  Her reverie would soon be interrupted by a sudden spate of familiar thoughts began to surface and swell in her mind.  She winced as she reminisced upon the day she was taken into her new life.


           Julie did not originally relish the thought of being spirited away by glistening, faceless, obsidian-hued men of rubberized flesh, but that night was only the first of many great changes in her life.  Their touch was firm yet gentle, their forms desirable, and best of all was how they communicated; no words, but merely the instilling of urges and directives into Julie’s mind.  They diligently removed her clothing, and upon laying slick hands upon her bare and curvaceous body, her complacency was easily obtained.  Even as their intrusion became a warm welcome, she was walking away with them wearing a smile.  Julie’s sweet smile.  It showed no teeth, but was a curious upward curving of the lips that sparked of mischief.  It was a smile that displayed a darker side of Julie whose power was growing ever more prominent.

          She was brought to a large and luxurious vehicle and placed into the backseat by her lustrous sable escorts.  She could feel affectionate pulses between her legs as they continued to slowly touch her.  There was an uncanny strength that could be felt in those slender, athletic automatons, and this only served to further comfort Julie.  The section of the vehicle in which she has been seated was spacious as a limousine, and the seats were made of a shining black patent leather that squeaked as she settled into position.  Her suitors were preparing some unknown equipment and garments as the transport began its smooth, uninterrupted journey.

         Julie had taken this moment to regain a sense of clarity and perspective on her predicament.  There were three rubber men.  Two were present with her in the back of the vehicle, and one must have gone to the front to assume the driver’s role.  The thought of escape had occurred to her, but it felt more pleasant to simply sit and let events play out as her new controllers saw fit.  Instead of struggling, she reflected on her life before now.  She was twenty-six, and had a reasonably sized circle of friends whom she occasionally saw.  She was currently and reluctantly employed as a waitress, though it was not the first low-income profession she had graced and left for one reason or another.  Even with a college education, auspicious career paths ever seemed to elude her.  She wilted at the thought of her future being dismal, but beamed when a feeling of relief came over her.  Things were going to be different, oh yes.  She smiled her delightful Julie smile.  These latex-clad strangers were making her feel quite pretty.  Hopes sprung anew, and a hitherto unknown sense of purpose was swelling.

        She closed her eyes as the mysterious rubber men guided her into a slippery, slick body sheath - an ebony rubber catsuit of her own.  She gasped at the sensations that rippled across her skin, which seemed to be clinging to the new layer in which it was being enveloped.  It began with a chill that was swiftly replaced with warmth and safety; how perfectly it fit her.  Her guardians removed her glasses that once gave her the appearance of a studious and approachable librarian.  Her vision blurred, but gradually returned to focus without her spectacles.  Somehow, this living rubber suit - yes, it was alive, wasn’t it? - was rejuvenating her.  Rejuvenated Julie had to smile in the way that only the beautiful and obedient Julie could.

          Her enigmatic twin keepers caressed her as the rubber skin secured itself upon their nascent doll.  Julie was in ecstasy, touching herself and blissfully unaware of the details around her.  She gladly accepted the rubber men’s placement of her black hood, which flowed over her head, leaving her lovely face exposed through an appropriately-shaped section of transparent rubber.  Her natural beauty was only accentuated by the bleary effect of the hood.  Despite the total coverage, it felt porous, and she could breathe and speak without difficulty.  One might even speculate that the suit was breathing on her behalf.  Indeed, it felt as if it could move harmoniously with her mouth if the occasion called for the orifice to be filled.  She was a willing and proud prisoner within the gloss.  As two pairs of gloved hands fastened a collar about her neck, Julie’s smile shone all the more radiantly beneath her hood.

         In her acceptance, the living rubber adhered to her skin, facilitating the transformation.  From a panel on the floor, as if in response to her stimulation, a blue silicone appendage rose and entreated itself for insertion. She aided the visitor in its quest and embraced it between her thighs, and its rhythm was in confluence with the moving vehicle’s undulations.  It was not only pleasuring her, but also providing a feeling of nourishment, feeding her the formula on which she would become happily dependent.  She had quickly become inured to the overwhelming reality that she was in the sway of something far greater than she had imagined possible in her mundane life.  Everything was changing; she looked up at the shining human males that loomed above her, exchanging caresses and furtively making contact where lips once were.  Their rubbery domes opened at these points ever so slightly to create the sensation of kissing.  Julie loved different types of men - funny ones, bearded fellows, and all other shapes and sizes.  She had even known men who were into bizarre kinks and fashions.  Now she loved these creatures most of all.  Now other men had the potential to become these sculpted golems of sensual textures.  Such exciting and wondrous thoughts swirled around her imagination as she smiled amiably and approached climax.  Before achieving orgasm and losing consciousness, she spoke with felicity: “I am Julie, the latex doll.”

          She woke in what would become her permanent domicile: a small, efficient apartment that was completely black and shiny as the latex men to whom she now belonged.  Each day, they would visit, take her as they wished, guide her through the facility in which she now lived and worked, and fill her with the mental and physical urges and directives that would become her daily rituals.  The Masters were gentle, silent, and varied enough in their advances that intimate encounters could be enjoyed in different ways and degrees of intensity.  Julie felt safe and fulfilled, and the work she did for the Masters and Marionetics all felt so...right.  She would occasionally see other women like her, presumably captured, rubberized, and converted to a doll as she was.  They were all quite pretty, and she liked to tell them so and hear their placid gratitude reciprocated.  The Masters often kept Julie and other rubber women bound in cocoon-like dresses that restricted the arms to a folded position, displaying the loyal dolls as helpless and dependent when they were not performing their tasks for Marionetics in the facility work areas.  It was thrilling and assuaging all at once.  Occasionally, the Masters would induce them to kiss - a tantalizing effect when the transparent hoods made contact with the maidens’ pursed lips.  When the designated time for slumber came, the deep, distant humming of the Marionetics compound lulled Julie and her polished rubber sisters to sleep and dream of perversions to come.

             The meeting with the silicone probe in her captors’ conveyance was far from Julie's first experience.  Similar devices kept her sustained and compliant.  Her human functions, foibles, and flaws all seemed to be dissolving over time as dollhood became her very essence. Her hunger had vanished, hair was removed, and no sickness came to her, so long as she was obedient and fed by Marionetics and their brilliant penetrating device.  In her suit, all nettlesome human features were muted or effaced.  To surrender her free will to this gratifying apparatus was more than a fair trade for Julie.  With the energy and sustenance provided by Marionetics, Julie could go through each day feeling productive, focused, engaged in recreation, and blissfully exhausted at the designated times.  And there was always an inky Master or two ready to cater to her urges (which were fundamentally their cravings as well).  The concept of a bad day became little more than some abstruse vagary to Julie

             Sometimes, she would be cleaned, polished, and groomed by mindless rubber doll women.  These marionettes were similar to the Masters, but with the semblance of a human face etched upon their heads, resembling shining black mannequins in department stores.  They wore uniform bob wigs made of a bouncy latex substance that almost felt like hair, and perpetually kept its style.  While the wigs were colored differently with each individual servant, their bodies (also of divergent feminine shapes and curvatures) were jet colored, corseted, and collared.  Of course, these dolls were tasked with cosmetics; there were other female drones like these with no head accessories or facial features, and their functions all revolved around maintenance.  There were even shiny maid dolls whose attire mimicked the eponymous profession.  Julie wondered if they also used to be normal human beings like her.  Perhaps they resisted enslavement or were punished for some transgression.  Julie glanced thoughtfully at a passing, dusting maid drone; was there a sentient person underneath that sleek, planate livery?  She surprised herself at not yet being beyond the point of questioning, but ultimately took a quiet joy in knowing that there were women whose stations were beneath her, even though they were not her slaves to command.  Julie smiled sagaciously whenever these drones performed their respective upkeeps, keeping her and all of Marionetics’ property glistening and alluring as it should be.  

           Being polished made Julie feel renewed and pretty all over again.  Even in this place that operated like clockwork, dust was sure to mar the aesthetic of the sparkling Marionetics staff.  That is where the rubber marionettes aided in maintaining this unspoken morale that came with being part of a unified hivemind of shiny humans.  The passive way by which the Masters, marionettes, and dolls shared a unified goal in their actions, despite individual thoughts on the surface, was fascinating to Julie.  She loved being massaged by multiple, biddable hands as a long-lasting and durable lubricant was applied.  She would gaze into a mirror as the dolls carried out their assignment.  She enjoyed an acquiescent arousal as she sat impassively, hands at her thighs, and only inches from the source of her stimulation.  Julie’s game of self-discipline whilst being pampered by rubber dolls was enjoyable, and she would often recrudesce these thoughts in her trysts with the Masters.  They knew her thoughts and reveled in them, for she was becoming exactly as they intended her to be.

          Julie’s fate was ostensibly sealed, and nary a thought of her former life came to haunt her.  Everything outside this rubber-saturated paradise would be okay without her.  “It would all be taken care of, just like me,” she mused.  This existence had become her entire world.  She did not miss her past connections, nor lament her severance from the world she once knew.  But today, her theory would be called into question.  Today, the ramifications of her capture would be revealed in a most unwelcome way, befitting of all painful truths.  No sooner had Julie snapped back to present day did the lights of the Marionetics facility begin to flicker and obfuscate, and the model employee doll called Julie felt an intrusive, pricking sensation from behind, followed by a groggy descent onto the floor and into somnolence.
Shiny Noir Portrait
For Sanctuary Magazines photos, published in the first issue of their Fetish Magazine: Gotica Da Fetish Magazine. Photography by Midnightskye Creations.
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MorteMcAdaver's Profile Picture
MorteMcAdaver
Morte McAdaver
United States
I'm a gothic rock maestro, and I compose a ridiculous amount of dark tunes and release them periodically, and as funds allow. I am not a visual artist, but I can provide pictures of myself and artwork associated with my projects.

If you wish to check out some of my music, please visit www.Soundcloud.com/MorteMcAdaver

You can also check out my music videos on my Youtube channel! www.Youtube.com/MorteMcAdaver

Current Residence: Northampton, MA
Shell of choice: Rubber.
Wallpaper of choice: Also rubber.
Skin of choice: And again, rubber.
Interests
Whew!  Two albums fully recorded, mixed, and mostly mastered for Pandora's Toybox and Blacksoul Seraphim!  Between that and playing Sorrowseed shows, I've just not had the time nor motivation to write creatively.  

But now that I'm experiencing a free period...

Working on my debut MLP song, The Changeling Boogie at long last!  Lyrics and instruments are recorded, so now it's a matter of perfecting everything.

Also writing chapter three of Silent Ponyville: Visage to continue Rarity's adventure into the depths of beautiful horror.

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:iconphoenixbird:
phoenixbird Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for watching!
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:icondefilerzero:
defilerzero Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch! :meow:
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:iconheveti:
heveti Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for watching and the fav :-)
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:iconshennanigma:
Shennanigma Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for adding me to your DeviantWatch! I hope you'll love what I have in store!
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:iconmortemcadaver:
MorteMcAdaver Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2014
You seem to have a penchant for the rubbery and shiny things, so I look forward to seeing more. :)
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:icongreat-dude:
GREAT-DUDE Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2014
THANKS 4 THE WATCH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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:iconarrakisart:
arrakisart Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2013  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav!
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:iconthierrycravatte:
ThierryCravatte Featured By Owner Jan 26, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you very much for adding me to your 'watchlist'. I really appreciate your interest in my work ! I'm impressed by your music videos, really cool stuff !!
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:iconmortemcadaver:
MorteMcAdaver Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2013
Thank you so much! I only wish DA had some sort of musical posting option, but alas, I can only place my occasional poems, lyrics, and fetish pictures on here.

Of course, you could always hear a ton of my stuff at www.soundcloud.com/mortemcadaver ;-)
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:iconthierrycravatte:
ThierryCravatte Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I will sure check that ! ;)
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