Strange Ladies Offering Masks
By Rix Writes
For Aspen

It had all gone wrong.

Ghost had been set to meet with a wonderful, delightfully perverse dominant at a fetish club downtown.  She’d spent hours preparing for their first meet-up after months of online play, and had cheerfully made her way to The Grinder. The first hour she’d been there with him not showing up, it had concerned her.  When he wasn’t there after two, she’d known. Checking her phone at the three hour mark, she’d seen the message that had confirmed what she’d already known. He wasn’t coming.  What’s more, he had to end it. “I can’t do it in person.  I’m sorry.  I’m mated. I should never have done this.”

Almost as if to spite the old goat who’d stood her up, Ghost had resolved that someone was going to play with her that night. She wasn’t going to let the time she’d spent getting her fur nice and clean, polishing her piercings, and generally making herself as presentable as she could, simply go to waste. Of course, none of it had gone right, at all. First guy had seemed a creep who wanted to just fetishize her dick and her breasts.  There had been a couple out unicorn hunting who would have been a disaster.  Finally, the last straw had been a powerful equine who had immediately started pushing her buttons. In a perverse twist of fate, though, the repeated disasters before him had so completely drained her confidence that she’d run away when he’d tried to give her a gentle scratch behind the ear.

So now here she was, hiding in one of the private booths at The Grinder, occasionally peeking out the curtain to see if the stallion was gone. But every time she looked out, there he was, looking around with a confused expression, wondering where the cute wolf girl he’d been so interested had gone to. She sighed despondently and sat back on one of the faux leather couches in the booth, eyes closed. She can’t have had them closed for more than a few seconds when a soft, feminine voice had come from the other side of the booth.

“Seems like a bad run of luck, hmm?”  Ghost’s eyes snapped open in surprise. She hadn’t heard the curtain rustle, and the space was small enough that she should have felt someone coming in. Sitting in front of her was a tall, full-figured fox vixen. On any day, her appearance would be striking for her height alone, but from the neck down, every inch of her body was covered in tight-fitting glossy white latex.  Even her claws were just thick, hardened latex, as were the thick nubs of her nipples. Ghost’s jaw worked, but she couldn’t seem to make a sound. Above the neck was a fairly typical vulpine visage, and her deep red headfur was pulled up into a high ponytail. Given the sheer weight of presence she seemed to exude, there was just no way that Ghost could have missed the vixen when coming into the booth. But she had to have, or somehow had her eyes closed long enough for the vixen to have taken a seat. 

Grinning, the vixen peered back at Ghost with her bright, emerald green eyes. Black-tipped ears otherwise covered in red fur were perked forward in curiosity. Ghost began to sputter a hasty apology, “Oh holy fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was someone here. I’ll g-go, well, shit… ah, oh wow!” Ghost exclaimed suddenly, the apology forgotten completely. Her ears swiveled forward and she stared without thinking how rude it might be. The vixen, who had been sitting with legs crossed, had shifted position and now sat with her legs spread, giving the wolf an unrestricted view. To Ghost’s utter surprise, the vixen’s outfit had a perfectly moulded mound incorporated into it, and a pocket of shadow showed that the latex actually went inside her. Despite herself, Ghost felt her sheath beginning to fill out a little.

“Oh, it’s quite alright, my dear,” the vixen said, making no effort to recross her legs, seeming content to let Ghost take in the sight.  “If I didn’t want you here, I would ask you to leave. And besides, I think Magnus is still looking for you. That, by the way, is the name of that stallion you were so eager for. Until you weren’t.”

“Oh jeez,” Ghost muttered.  “I feel like such a moron. He was really nice. I guess I got spooked.”  She looked down at her hands and then felt a rush of embarrassment at the sight of the slight erection that was poking out of her sheath. It was a relief when her arousal quickly faded at the realization that a total stranger focused on her could see how much Ghost appreciated her outfit. She was starting to calm down when a new thought hit her. “Oh god, how am I gonna go get my clothes? I… I… fuck!  Fuck!  I screwed that up. But it’s like you build something up in your brain, right? Supposed to meet this guy, and… then there was a creep, and… aaaand I’m babbling at a stranger.”

The vixen laughed, her ponytail bouncing as she moved.  “People do that. Don’t worry. I don’t mind. I’m happy to let you stay here, as long as you feel safe. I’m Misha. I own a club like this, but sometimes it’s nice to just… find a place I can relax and not be pulled in a dozen directions at once. What’s your name, pup?”

Ghost felt a little flush of excitement fill her at being called ‘pup’, then looked back up at Misha. The vixen had somehow managed to put herself on display even more than a few moments before, making the invitation to look even more blatant. “I’m Ghost,” she said. She took advantage of the invitation to look at that latex-clad mound. Every wrinkle and fold of a proper mound was delicately detailed, and there was even a silver ring through the fake clitoral hood. She didn’t know how, but the lip of the vixen’s passage looked slick and damp. “That… your outfit, Misha. It’s amazing. It’s beautiful.  I’ve never seen something that detailed. Kinda wish I had something like it. Though would probably feel just as naked as I do now.”

Cocking her head to the side, Misha said, “Well, you could. I would love to see what you’d look like in say… mmm… purple.” She gestured lazily at the heavy curtain then asked, “So, Ghost, what made you try to hide in my booth, hmm? You seemed pretty into Magnus. I’ve seen him work. You’d be safe with him.”

For a few moments, Ghost tried to figure out how to explain. Eventually she shrugged and said in a soft voice, “I… I dunno. Happens a lot. More than I like to admit,” Ghost said, clasping her hands in her lap and starting to fidget nervously. “It’s like you said. Bad run of luck. I’d built up for such a nice night. I felt comfortable and confident and ready to explore. Then the guy I was going to trust, he fucking bailed, said he was done, and then said he was mated. And then… just when I was going to salvage the night, when I was going to let that stallion… Magnus… I just kept thinking something would go wrong. And I ran.”

Misha nodded, ears forward, showing that she was genuinely listening. She leaned toward Ghost and reached out to lay her hand on Ghost’s knee. “I could invite him in here. Make sure he behaves himself. It’s private enough that nobody would see. I’m sure he’d understand.”

“No!” Ghost almost yelled, trying to suppress the urge to bolt. She forced herself to calm, then said more evenly, “No. I… I think tonight’s just a bit too much. Maybe I’m not ready. Dammit.”  She looked down at that latex-clad hand still on her knee. She took Misha’s hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I wish… I wish I could just do it. Stop worrying about what could go wrong. The guy I was gonna meet was going to really get rough. Keep me helpless. He was gonna abuse me and use me and… I want to do that but I just think I’d fucking chicken out. I want that horse cock railing me, I want to be crying out. But the night’s spoiled.”

Misha’s lips curled into a wide, almost predatory grin. There seemed to be a strange glow in her eyes, and it made Ghost flinch and pull her hands back. “The fuck?” she exclaimed, confused. When she looked again, the glow was gone, and Misha was back in her lazy, lounging position, an expression of confused innocence on her face. Ghost blinked and shook her head. She must have imagined it. “You… no, never mind. See? Now I’m screwing this up. You’re all nice and friendly and offering to help, and I’m being weird.”

“It’s quite alright, Ghost. If you want, I have a way you could… stop worrying. In fact, I guarantee that if you accept my help, you’ll be getting a nice fat horse cock under your tail for sure. You’ll even get on your hands and knees right on the floor in here and lift your tail obediently.” Misha held out something she’d had in her lap, something that, like Misha herself, Ghost could have sworn had appeared out of nowhere. It was an exquisitely formed mask that seemed to be of the same sort of latex that the vixen was clad in, but a deep royal purple instead of white. “Take it, put it on. Just slip it onto your face, Ghost.”

Before she could think about it, Ghost took the mask, more to avoid seeming rude than anything else. She inspected it closely, but it really seemed like nothing more than a slightly rigid rubber wolf mask, though one with some incredible detail. The coincidence of Misha having it, though, was more than Ghost was ready to believe. She fixed Misha with a suspicious look and said in a deliberately neutral tone, “More than just a mask, isn’t it. Like you.”  That vulpine smile grew wider and Misha nodded. “Something… weird is going to happen. You weren’t in here when I came to hide.”  Silently, the vixen shook her head, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Eyes that, once again, had begun to glow with a soft inner light. “I don’t suppose you’ll just tell me.”

Musical laughter spilled from Misha’s lips and she finally spoke, “Oh no dear. But that’s part of the fun. The uncertainty. I’m telling you the truth. You’ll be safe. No one will harm you.”  She stood and moved to the couch beside Ghost in one smooth motion. Draping an arm over the wolf’s shoulder, she said simply, “It’s what you need, pup. And once you’re wearing it, you’ll understand.”

Ghost contemplated the mask for a long while. There was something about uncertainty and surprise that had her curious enough to find her hands guiding the mask to her face. She could feel the thing start to tremble only centimetres from her face, or at least she imagined she could. This close, she could tell for sure that it was perfectly formed to fit on her face. Ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that said it was a bad idea, she pressed the mask to her face, muzzle slipping in. It wasn’t until too late that she realized that there were no breathing holes in the mask, but before she could tug it off the thing simply came to life.

The mask seemed to turn fluid, binding to the fur of her muzzle and squeezing tightly. Misha’s arm over her shoulder suddenly became like a vise, holding her. “Calm yourself. Don’t fight it.” came the firm command.  Despite the words, Ghost did just that, jerking her head this way and that, trying to peel the thing off of her. To her horror, the mask’s material began to cover her hands and began to flow down her arms, soaking into fur and adhering to skin. She screamed, her heart hammering with her surprise and sudden fear, but the sound was muffled by the now seemingly completely liquid, flowing latex as it covered her head completely. The stuff invaded her nostrils, invading them with the scent of rubber, and then formed into two short tubes that opened up and allowed Ghost to breathe.

Within a few seconds, the substance flowed over Ghost’s eyes and back to the base of her neck. At first it had pressed into her ears, but it had retracted from them and lay like a membrane over them. While it began to creep down her neck and farther down her arms, tightening and seemingly losing its liquidity wherever it passed. “Calm…” came a strong voice, and though undeniably Misha, there was a strange harmonic resonance to it, as if she had two voices, a deep baritone to accompany the smooth, feminine sound. There was a weight to the word this time, and she felt her heart slowing and adopting a more measured beat. “You’re scared. You’re safe. I’m not taking you completely. Let it flow. You can’t stop it.”

Misha’s free hand was stroking the back of Ghost’s head, and to her surprise, she could feel the touch as clearly as if the rubber wasn’t there. In fact, it reminded her of the time she’d had to have her appendix out. They’d had to shave a spot on her belly, and the bare skin had been incredibly sensitive. That was what it felt like to be touched where the rubber had solidified. A sense of surprised wonder settled onto Ghost. It was frightening, yes, but it was… incredible, too. “That’s right,” came the voice, from all around her. “It feels good, doesn’t it?  No, dear, I’m not controlling your thoughts. I can’t do that yet. And I can’t if you don’t accept my essence.”

The latex kept flowing down Ghost’s arms, encasing them centimetre by centimetre in the substance. Even as she began to wonder what it might look like, the stuff flowed away from her eyes and she found she could see again. Glossy, detailed purple latex now sheathed her arms entirely. Misha’s hand took hers, a finger stroking across her palm, drawing a gasp. She was so sensitive, more than she’d ever thought possible. Even as she began to feel distress that she couldn't speak, a seam formed and the stuff flowed up and around her gums, leaving her able to talk. “I… what is…”

Ear holes formed next as the creeping and flowing latex slipped under her collar, and suddenly the sounds of the club returned, with Misha’s voice now whispering in her ear instead of all around her. “You’re going to look beautiful, dear. Just like me. That’s what the mask is. Sort of. Part of me. A fragment of what I am. Each one different. Made in an instant just for what is needed.” Alabaster white latex now pressed against Ghost’s cheek, and a long white tongue that was very much not vulpine slathered a slick, clear substance all over her face. The scent was vaguely antiseptic and almost medical, and she knew immediately what it was. It was lube.

“Holy shit… holy shit…” Ghost babbled, both terrified and excited. A detached part of her wondered just what sort of insane nanotech this was that could have the stuff coating her so completely. It had slipped over and covered her collar now. When she looked up to the mirrored wall on the opposite side of the booth, above the couch, she could see that it had changed the leather into hard latex, with the golden bell untouched. She watched as the latex on her arms and shoulders met and flowed together, then began to creep down her breasts. Wonder and curiosity won out over fear, and somehow she wasn’t surprised to see that Misha was now entirely latex, with her eyes a uniform glowing green, lacking pupils or irises. Her tongue was long and serpentine, and actually wrapped around her neck and flicked the bell on her neck playfully.

The feeling of the latex flowing over her breasts came next, and Ghost got to watch, mouth hanging open, pink tongue hanging out, as her upper half was slowly coated. The colour of the latex wasn’t uniform; indeed, it was keeping to the pattern of the wolf’s fur. Deep, vibrant royal purple had replaced darker gray, a soft lavender where her fur was pale.  Her nose was so dark as to be nearly black, and as her nipples were covered, they adopted the same shade, the areolae only slightly lighter in tone. Misha lowered her hand down and teased one of Ghost’s nipples, drawing a surprised cry from her. The firm nub was so sensitive, moreso than it ever had been. Misha twisted it slightly, and the sharp pain of it turned her pleased cry to a yelp of pain. “So beautiful, Ghost. You’re going to love this…”

Soon, the latex reached Ghost’s belly, and she whined when it reached her sheath. Fear began to creep back in, but Misha just kept stroking the back of her head, murmuring soft encouragement into her ear. “Good pup. Good toy. You’re safe. This isn’t permanent, not yet. Just relax…” As the liquid coated her sheath and nuts, it actually crept into her sheath and she felt the surprisingly warm substance coating every inch of her shaft. The sensation was incredible, and almost immediately she felt herself hardening, the length slipping out as the latex continued onward, first down her tail and starting on her thighs.

“This is… I can’t believe… what is this,” Ghost asked, then groaned when Misha’s hand started to stroke her with a practiced touch. Her once dark pink shaft was now a vibrant fuchsia in colour, and she couldn't even feel the latex on it.  As fingers gripped and slid up and down the length of her cock above the bulb of her knot, it was like there was nothing between skin and those white-clad latex, now smeared with a bit of pre.

The only response Misha gave was another lick of that serpentine tongue, and a soft demand, “Give it a little suck, hmm?” Before she knew it, Ghost opened her mouth and began to suckle on the slick and strange organ. Whatever was on it, it tasted quite a bit like lube, but there was a musky nature to it that made it feel entirely organic. As she felt the latex beginning to reach her calves, she found that the taste wasn’t something she really liked, but somehow she couldn’t stop doing it. “That’s a good girl,” Misha intoned.

The moment that Ghost felt the liquid sensation cease at the tip of her big toe, she let out a low groan of need.  She didn’t know when it had happened, but Misha had drawn her in to her lap and was stroking up and down her belly, delivering kisses to her neck followed by gentle nips. Each and every sensation was felt more keenly than she’d ever experienced, and for a while she just let Misha show her how this strange new skin of latex felt. “Stand up, dear, take a look at yourself,” Misha said softly.

Ghost did just that, getting up on shaky legs and used the mirrors around the booth to inspect herself. Every single inch was glossy, tight latex, from lavender hues all the way to the near-ebon spots on her forehead and sides. She found her tail wagging at the sight; latex had always fascinated her, but the price of entry into such outfits had seemed far beyond her means. Then the thought that she’d been trying to keep from interrupting the wonder and amazement at what was happening came back to her. She turned her head to look at Misha and asked, “What are you, Misha?”

The vixen regarded her and said softly, “In truth, I do not know. I’m old. Very old. There are things that science cannot explain. I’m one of them. Does that frighten you?” She cocked her head and peered back at Ghost. Despite being unable to see where Misha was looking because of the uniform glowing green of her eyes, Ghost knew for certain that the vixen was looking directly at her.

Considering for a moment, Ghost eventually shook her head, “I… I don’t think it does.”  She lifted a hand up to heft her right breast and let it fall. “It’s… it’s so real. I just… it’s beautiful, and I know I’ll catch every eye with this, but… how is it going to help my confidence. I’m still just as scared of going out there as I was. I still don’t think I can really… you know?  Why don’t we just get to know each other more?”

Misha’s tongue returned to something a bit more like a fox’s, and she clucked it and waggled a finger in Ghost’s direction.  “Oh no, my dear. I told you what was going to happen, and it’s going to. Your night will only be beginning when you feel horse nuts slapping against your thighs.”

“But I don’t think I…” Ghost began, and Misha made a slight cutting motion.

“Stop talking until I’m ready for you to do so,” Misha commanded, and suddenly Ghost was cut off mid sentence, snapping her muzzle shut with an audible click. The vixen stood and reached up to lay a hand against her cheek, then gripped her chin tightly. “Each mask I give is a part of me. Some piece of the power I hold. They have properties that can be different for each and every one that puts them on. Can you guess what this one is doing with you?”

Ghost simply tried to shake her head no, but the vixen’s grip was too firm. When she tried to open her mouth to answer, she found herself unable to. It wasn’t that her mouth was being held shut, it was as if the signal from her brain was simply not reaching her mouth. She chalked it up to her confusion and the intensity of the situation, but there was a tiny grain of suspicion forming at what had been done. Misha reached behind Ghost and drew the curtain to the booth open, the sounds of the club washing over them both. “Now, pretty toy, turn around and step into the doorway. Tell me how you’re feeling, but stay there.” 

Eyes going wide, Ghost turned around and faced the club. Nobody was watching her, really, but the apprehension and nervousness of earlier in the night began to return. The same urge to run, to shut down after the disappointments of the night filled her, and she whimpered before answering, now able to speak, “Scared. Confused. I’m n-not sure I’m ready to be seen, Misha.  Oh my god, that’s Magnus, he’s going to see me!” The stallion didn’t seem to be actively searching for her anymore, but at any point he could look up and she’d be right there.

“Gooooood,” Misha half-purred, an odd sound coming from a vixen, though Ghost supposed she could probably be whatever she wanted. “Start masturbating, Ghost. Use your free hand to pinch one of your nipples as hard as you can and twist it. Make it as hard as you have ever had done or done to yourself.” The vixen’s body pressed up against Ghost’s back, and she felt a firm pair of hands gripping her thighs.

“Wait, no, what?”  The kernel of suspicion in Ghost’s mind of what this new outfit could do became a certainty as she began to stroke her achingly rigid cock while reaching up to pinch her right nipple firmly. Her pained whimper was shaky, and became a cry as she began to grip that nipple harder. All the while, her hand was gliding up and down her engorged shaft. When she began to twist that nipple, her cry grew louder and more pained. “Misha...a h… he’s going… going to see me.”  She felt her legs shaking, but she just kept twisting her own nipple until the pained cry, paused only when she took a ragged breath inward, grew loud enough to cut through the sounds of sex and pleasure all around her. 

A full dozen or more people were staring at her, their own activities briefly interrupted by Ghost. Some of the expressions were irritated, but most of them appreciative or even predatory. When she looked to Magnus, hoping against hope that he wasn’t watching, that he’d be angry she’d gone off and done something with someone else after she’d fled, she saw him looking directly at her. To her relief and chagrin, he was grinning at her, a knowing look in his eyes.  When Misha lifted her hand from Ghost’s thigh and waved at him, Magnus returned the wave and blew a kiss. 

All the while, Ghost kept pawing off and savagely twisting her nipple, tears blurring her vision as she went beyond what she’d ever be able to handle on her own.  She felt herself getting close to her peak, the impending climax threatening to overtake her. If she came right in view of everyone, this many eyes on her, obviously in pain and seemingly enjoying it, she’d die of embarrassment. She couldn’t stop, though, no matter how much she told herself to do so.  Magnus was eyeing her with a hungry look now, and he was stroking himself through his jeans.

“Alright, Ghost, you can stop… take a few steps back,” Misha murmured.  As Ghost released her nipple and stopped stroking, she felt the tiniest bit of disappointment. She’d enjoyed being watched, enjoyed the embarrassment of it, of Magnus knowing what was happening.  Taking a few steps back, she whined when Misha reached out and pulled the curtain across the booth’s entrance, the sounds of the club beyond grew muffled and indistinct once more.  “Did you like that?”

Ghost didn’t answer for a few moments, then said in a soft voice, “Y-yes.”  She shook from head to toe, the ache of her throbbing nipple insistent.  “Couldn’t have d-done that. Always wanted to be able… to just do things. Guess I can, with this?”  She explored her outfit, her new skin of sorts, marveling at the sleekness and the way she could feel everything so keenly.

“Mhm… and that’s why I want you to get on your hands and knees, Ghost.  Lift that tail for me.” Before Ghost could think, she was already doing as she was told, tail lifting to bare the tight little bud of her tailhole. She realized that she moved so much more fluidly than when she’d been reluctant, as if it was more natural when she wasn’t fighting the suit.  The wagging of her tail, though, was entirely hers, though when she looked back her tail went rigidly still and her breath caught.

Misha was grinning still, and her tongue ran over her lips in anticipation of what was to come.  Her whole body was that gleaming white latex, except for one new detail.  Her mound was gone, replaced by a huge pair of nuts, each the size of a tennis ball, and a thick furless sheath lay above them. It looked like actual skin and not latex.  As Ghost watched, a broad, flat head pushed out, a good three inches wide.  The flesh was a mottled dark brown and pale pink, just like she’d imagined Magnus’ cock would have looked like.  “Oh, you thought the horseflesh that was going to be in you was his? Oh no, my dear, I’m going to fuck you myself.  Hard and rough and I’m not giving a single thought to how comfortable you are.”  She stroked that shaft, mottled flesh growing to rigid stiffness as the wolf watched.  Soon a good fourteen inches of equine flesh jutted proudly from Misha’s pelvis, a bead of something slick dripping from the broad tip’s little hole.

“Oh… oh god, that’s too big… I can’t… Misha, it’s too much,” Ghost gasped out, a lump of fear in her belly now.  She didn’t know how she could take something as big as that. But wasn’t that what she’d wanted, what she’d been promised?  Wasn’t it what she’d been told would happen after she put on the mask?

Clucking her tongue, Misha shook her head, “Ghost, dear, I’m going to fuck you.  It’s been a while since I had a cock like this one. They’re always so sensitive.” She knelt on the carpeted floor behind Ghost, the heavy, hard shaft resting against the wolf’s ass.  This close, she could see that the latex that seemingly made up Misha’s skin just changed seamlessly into horseflesh with no edge or seam. “You said you wanted it. And I think you still do. You’re just scared aren’t you?”

Ghost’s ears splayed out and back and she let out a soft whimper before just nodding her head, “Can’t you just… Make me not scared? M-misha?  Can you at least tell me to… stop talking…” Here was a way she could do this, to just have it done and not have to worry one bit about being able to back down. There was something undeniably powerful about having the control of her body taken away. It made her feel more like a toy, more like a plaything, and that was something that she’d always fantasized about.

“MMmh, I don’t have that much control over you, my dear, not yet. I could, if you let me…” she teased the tip of that broad head at the relatively tiny bud of muscle under Ghost’s uplifted tail. “But you’re understanding how to make that lovely outfit work for you, aren’t you?”  She slapped Ghost’s nuts with the broad head of her cock, drawing out a squeal. “You can no longer use your mouth to speak. And even more, when I’m fucking you, no matter how much it hurts, you’re going to paw yourself off while I’m doing it.”

The vixen… or whatever she was… lowered her head, and that long, slick tongue began to slather the tight little ring of muscle under her tail with the strange lube.  It tingled and felt incredibly warm and slick. The undulations of that tongue drew pleased gasps from Ghost, who had already begun to stroke herself. Her canine shaft was so incredibly sensitive, and as with every part on her body, somehow made even more so by her new outfit. Misha’s skill with her tongue was incredible, pressing into her, making sure that Ghost was lubed up properly.

Too soon, Misha seemed to judge her ready and murmured, “Up a little more.  Get your face in on the ground.  Present that tight ass to me, girl.”  With a low whine, Ghost felt her body shift position to follow Misha’s command.  That glow was back, the slightly monstrous look overtaking the vixen’s visage. The grin that formed on her lips was too wide, that serpentine tongue dripping with clear fluid hanging out and down to her breasts, curling around one of them.  Despite that, the words resounded in the small booth, “I’m going to enjoy this…”

All that Ghost could do was whimper as Misha pressed the tip of her equine cock under her tail.  “My, my,” she growled in that strange resonant tone, “I’m going to split you in half. Or at least it’ll feel like it.” Then she leaned over and, guiding her massive shaft with one hand, started applying pressure. At first, it just felt like something pushing at Ghost’s rump, but then her anus started to stretch, the slightly rounded tip of that mostly blunt cock starting to open her up.  Almost immediately, the stretching began to ache, and it just grew worse.  The vixen just kept the pressure on, shifting ever so slightly as she pressed in.

A low, pained sound came from Ghost’s throat, but beneath it was a strain of pleasure. She’d begun to masturbate slowly, fingers playing up and down her shaft. The pleasure of that sensation managed to distract her just enough, to give her just enough to enjoy as bit by bit her rear opened for that thick equine head. She cried out into the soft fabric of the rug as she stretched wider than she’d ever been before, her tailring ablaze with the feeling.  She did feel like she was going to tear open, just split wide, but then, with a sudden popping sensation, the broad head sunk in, her tailhole given a chance to relax ever so slightly now that the crown of Misha’s cock had passed into her.

“Ooooh, fuck, love, you are so tight.  You took that so well.  I can’t wait till my nuts are slapping yours,” Misha growled, and shoved forward, sinking in a good half a foot in one rough thrust.  The sudden shove made Ghost all but scream at the flare of pain. “Oh, that sounded niiice, Ghost.  That was wonderful. Make all the noise you can. I bet everyone can hear you even through the curtain.”

Ghost moaned and let out a sob when Misha forced another few inches in, stretching her wider again. She could feel every contour of that thick shaft as it spread her, and to her horror and fascination, she could feel the bulge of the broad head through the latex at her belly. She could never have let Magnus do this.  She would have tapped out after the first few inches, if that, and everyone would have been left unsatisfied. But now she was helpless, now she couldn't stop it, her body a puppet for Misha, even if her mind wasn’t.  And even as the pressure grew, as the fiery ring of pain grew even more intense when the bump of the medial ring passed into her, making her sob and literally start to scream, Ghost knew two things for sure.  She loved losing that control.  And even if she’d not been made to do so, she’d have started pawing herself off.

Misha hunched over Ghost as she forced more and more of those fourteen inches into the wolf’s body.  The serpentine tongue slathered the back of her head, even tasted the tears that had begun to fall from Ghost’s eyes. “Ohh, that’s right, dear. A fuck toy. That’s what you want to be. That’s what I can make you. Let me, Ghost. I didn’t plan on taking a new… companion. I don’t like to call them slaves. Or drones. But they can be. I’ll take what’s there if I can.” She shoved just a little bit more, making the wolf sob and gag, the intensity of her stretch more than would be safe if Ghost were not wearing that outfit.

Ghost’s mind reeled.  More control?  What did Misha mean, make her a fucktoy?  With each shove, each intensifying of that fiery stretching agony, she stroked herself more enthusiastically.  And then one final shove, one last thrust, and she felt heavy orbs slap up against her own fuzzy sack. Her hand stroked the bulge in her belly while the other played up and down her shaft. “Ohhh, that’s just fucking lovely, Ghost. And I bet, if I said you didn’t have to keep pawing you would anyway.”  In that moment, with that huge horse-cock buried under her tail, her stretched anus aching like it never had, Ghost could only nod quickly in response. “I’m going to fuck you, little toy. Stroke yourself as much as you like. Or not.”

Letting out a terrified whimper, Ghost renewed her stroking, and this time it was under her own power, her own desire.  Misha dragged herself back a few inches, then slammed forward with savage force, heavy nuts swinging forward to slap Ghost’s own.  The strangled cry that rose from Ghost’s throat was one of genuine pain, mingled with a desperate need. “That’s it, that’s right, you’re a fuck toy right now. You love this. You want this. I can taste that need in the air.”  Each statement was punctuated by another rough pulling back and thrust forward.

“Fuck! I haven’t had a horse cock like this in forever,” Misha crowed, “You’re just a nice fucking cock warmer right now and I love it.”  She kept slamming her hips forward while she spoke, and as she did, Ghost felt a sort of euphoria as the pain of the rutting blended into one throbbing aching sensation.  Misha was the largest thing she’d ever taken, and the fullness was an intense, amazing feeling despite the discomfort. 

“If you love this control, Ghost…” Misha gasped, pausing for a moment when fully inside Ghost, “I’ll give you more. I’ll take control of your emotions. Your sensations. Your heart and soul, serving me. Serving the pleasures of others. But once you’re mine. Once I fill you with everything I can, you’re mine. You can be a fucktoy, a slut. You won’t ever back down or lose your nerve again. I want to take you, completely. Do you want to be mine, Ghost?”

After all that Ghost had seen, after all that happened, the wolf knew that Misha, whatever she was, would be able to do just what she was offering. To be overtaken so completely, to go just one step further, would completely change her life. Suddenly, Misha drew herself back, past the bump of that medial ring and all the way to the crown so that the slightly flared tip tugged on Ghost’s insides. “Say it, dear… tell me you want it. It’s been so long since I’ve taken one so… spontaneously. But I knew what you were the moment I saw you talking to Magnus.”

“Yes!” Ghost croaked, aware that if such a thing had been offered before she’d never have even believed the offer being made. As the word spilled from her lips, she felt a strange sort of resonance inside her mind. 

Still holding herself just inside Ghost, Misha let out a predatory, hungry growl. “Gooood… you’re going to paw yourself off every second I fuck you. And when you cum, when you reach your peak, so will I.”  Before the last syllable of speech had even finished, Misha took a firm hold of Ghost’s hips and slammed forward with punishing force, her huge nuts making a loud slap as they met Ghost’s. The wolf screamed, a ragged, agonized yell as her entire world went white with the fiery pain. Dutifully she stroked her cock, feeling her fingers play over the engorged length.

“It won’t hurt so much,” Misha growled, then pulled back and slammed forward again, “when your body is mine.  Unless you want it to. I think you’re making a little too much noise though…”  Another rough shove, filling the booth with the slap of Misha’s nuts against Ghost followed by the wolf’s strangled cry. 

Misha leaned over and that tongue came out again, pressing into Ghost’s mouth.  She wasn’t in the least surprised when it formed into a smaller but perfectly shaped equine cock, though this one was all latex and lube.  Misha’s voice grew into that monstrous, resonant sound, and, “Prove it, toy, prove you want me. Cum for me.”

Ghost gurgled around that faux-cock in her mouth, howling around it as Misha began to fuck.  The command to paw off had settled in, and she knew that if she’d had the ability to stop herself, she’d be so distracted by the fucking she’d have forgotten to.  The force of Misha’s rutting was punishing, violent, relentless, a spire of heat that speared her over and over, the broad head making her belly bulge a little each time.  Ghost, gurgling and howling around Misha’s tongue (cock?) could feel pleasure rising in her loins, that impending sense of bliss that told her that she was getting closer to her peak.  It was as if Misha’s fucking grew even more violent the closer that Ghost came to her orgasm.

“Fuck, getting there, going to flood you with my self. Be a tight fuck every time,” Misha growled. “Can feel you. So close. Let me in, Ghost. Accept my gift. Dirty little fuck toy, forever.” On that one word, that single intonation that filled the room, Ghost found herself unable to stave off her climax for even another second. She screamed around the mouthful, and as her cock began to pulse seed into its sheath of rubber, Misha gave a final yell of “MIIIINE.”

There was a swelling inside Ghost, and she could feel that flared cockhead grow, accompanied by a similar flaring in her mouth… and then a torrent of something that wasn’t cum filled her muzzle.  It tasted of rubber and lube and something unidentifiable.  Her climax seemed to go on and on, and the flood of that stuff forced its way down her throat, hot and slick and alien. Then, to her horror, she felt it pressing in at her ears, filling her eyes.

“Relax… calm down, my lovely Ghost,” came Misha’s voice, and this time it was inside her own head that she heard it.  This time though, a soft pressure came with it, a forcible sense of relaxation. “It’s less distressing if you relax. You’re mine. I’m just claiming you.”  On and on that substance, Misha’s essence, Ghost understood, filled her.  Rather than panic as she might have expected to do, she did relax. When she stopped thinking about it, the burning that had begun to fill her lungs faded, and a sense of peace and wonder -not all of it induced by the vixen.

We are called gods by some, my toy.  I don’t know if that’s what I am. But now, that’s what I am for you. Settle your thoughts. That’s right… good girl. Such a magnificent toy for me to play with. To love. I think I know just how to initiate you properly before bringing you to my club…

Ghost opened her eyes some time later. She could feel Misha there, inside her mind. She wasn’t surprised when she stood on shaky legs and found herself alone. Gods were real. That was something she hadn’t expected. Well of course not. So few believe. And maybe I’m not.  Maybe I’m something else. I don’t know. But lust, and pleasure, and most of all, willing submission, are what sustain me. Ghost’s eyes widened, but she didn’t really feel too much shock that the voice could be heard.

Ghost looked through the mirror behind one of the couches.  She looked as she had before in the outfit.  She could even stick out her tongue and it looked normal. When she looked down though, she saw that her dick was still rock hard, and she vaguely recalled feeling even that part of her flooded. She knew what she was looking at was much more than an outfit. It was as much a part of her as the blood that flowed in her veins.  Wait, did she have blood?

Yes, you do. But watch… get closer to the mirror…  Ghost stepped forward obediently, knowing somehow that it was under her own power and not forced. My fuck toy. I think that’s what you should be.  I bet the Grinder’s patrons would love a cock warmer.  The wolf wasn’t entirely sure what Misha meant, but then in stark black block letters words formed on her forehead. FUCK TOY.  Suddenly, she felt her muzzle closing, changing, forming a thin, soft rubber slit for her mouth. It started to look vaguely artificial, like the masturbation toys she’d used herself on occasion.

A knot of humiliation formed in Ghost’s stomach, but with it came an insistent, almost insidious sort of excitement.  She looked down at her chest, which had grown somewhat, and new words were written there. COCK GOES HERE appeared, with an arrow pointing between her breasts.  That’s right.  You want to be a toy, so you will be.  Her belly was next, with the words POSABLE SLUT.  Her eyes were drawn then to the compound reflection, the sight of her back in the reflected mirror of the other side of the booth.  The words that formed there were harder to read, but Ghost worked them out.  SELF CLEANING – INSERT DICK HERE.  New words formed just above her dick, smaller but legible.  SQUEEZE KNOT FOR LUBE.  Just to test it, fascinated as much as she was humiliated to be turned into a literal toy, she squeezed the engorged knot, and a spurt of slick peach-scented lube shot from the tip.

Every single moment, every word that appeared told Ghost just what she’d agreed to. How long was she going to be stuck like this? Like this, as a toy?  A few nights I think.  The owner knows he shouldn’t ask too many questions. Why don’t you try to masturbate, dear?  When, hand trembling, Ghost tried to, she felt nothing.  Not just nothing, it was as if she was stroking a dildo, in texture as much as form.  She couldn’t feel the stroking on her ‘flesh’ though.

Almost done… now watch… Ghost watched, and she let out a low moan, or tried to.  She realized that she wasn’t breathing at all, though her heart was still beating rapidly.  Her eyes had gone glassy, and stared straight ahead.  Everything about her body subtly shifted, gaining a sense of unreality, making her look like one of the sex dolls you could find in adult shops and specialty boutiques. You should get into a comfortable position, Toy.  In about ten seconds you’re going to lose the ability to move on your own.

Moving in a slow, stilted fashion that looked and felt wrong, Ghost tried to think of the most inviting position to put herself in. How would a posable toy be most attractive?  She was awarded with her wonderings with a sense of pride and adoration, Misha’s pleasure. Already thinking like a toy. Good.

Just as she felt lassitude coming over her, Ghost got on her hands and knees facing the curtain.  She would be the first thing anyone saw when they came in.  A posable doll, a plaything.  A place to put one’s cock.  You know, if a lady comes in, they can use you like a dildo, too.  Just set you up and ride you on the couch.  Ghost giggled inside her head.  She knew what this all meant.  All her fears, all her worries, about losing her nerve or running away, meant nothing.  She was a toy.  It’s what she was meant for, what she was supposed to do.  The understanding made a sense of pure joy fill her, and the toy knew that it didn’t matter one bit who made her feel that.

What’s your name?

Gh… Toy.  Fuck Toy.

That’s right.  Enjoy!

The curtain suddenly pulled aside to reveal the hulking form of Magnus, the ebon-furred stallion looking down at Fuck Toy.  His lips curled into a wide grin and he crouched down to look into Ghost’s eyes.  It was disconcerting… with her gaze outwardly fixed, he wasn’t looking at her, but the words on her forehead.  “Well, well.  This I wasn’t expecting.  I had to beg you know, to join her.  Inner Circle needs tops, too.  And she claims you in a night.  Not jealous though.”  He hefted his dick, which had grown to full mast at the sight of the Fuck Toy.  “This is gonna be fun.”

Right there, with the curtain still open, Magnus pressed the head of his cock against Fuck Toy’s muzzle.  To her surprise, her mouth stretched for it, all three inches.  Despite having no tongue, she could taste and smell his heavy, equine musk.  “Oh, damn, girl… she gave you the whole treatment. So… here you go.”  He took hold of her head and shoved forward, and in one smooth motion, forced his cock all the way into her muzzle.  She could feel the need to gag, she even felt what it must be like to have something down a flesh-and-blood throat, but it stretched with only a reasonable amount of discomfort.

But the thing that surprised her, shocked her more than anything, was that as heavy, grapefruit-sized nuts slapped against her chin, her cock felt exactly what Magnus was feeling.  Laughing, the horse tweaked one of Fuck Toy’s ears and began to fuck her face as hard as he could.

Fuck Toy was used over a dozen times that night...