Attacked by Latex Gloves

"Are you ready to play now?"

I looked up at James. My latex stockings had moved me to my knees. I had struggled against their every move for an hour. They had won. I was too tired to move on my own.

My body, exhausted, was now suspended between the black stockings and their spiritual conspirators — the gloves around my arms and fingers. Too tired to protest, I knew they would be telling me how to move.

My body now curvy and pale was the conduit between them. They had slipped slowly from under the guestroom bed and under my covers as I slept peacefully in my best friend James's house. I had flown from across the country for his wife Alexa's funeral.

As I slept, they wrapped around my fingertips and toes and pulled themselves swiftly over my arms and legs. I woke the moment the stockings locked around my thighs. For a moment I still had control. I turned on the lamp on the table beside the bed and snatched the covers from my body to find my legs already in curvy feminine proportion. Already the stockings and gloves had begun their work — acting as a conduit to change my body lying between them.

I felt a jolt of electricity run through one hand, then the other, and then to my horror I watched my hands settle under my chest and cup beneath my pecs invitingly. My hands were now dainty and feminine. I had no idea that in a moment I would be filling them.

My nipples thickened, almost as if they knew what was coming. The area around them began to swell. Like mosquito bites. And then, like two tennis balls. Then bigger. I tried to move my hands away, to struggle from the bed, but I was met with a vice-like grip. I realized in that moment that they marked a limit: My cup size. My waist seized in above my hips to accentuate them even further.

I snapped. I fought it. I fought with all of my strength. Closing my eyes and struggling like I had never struggled before; slowly lifting myself to sit at the head of the bed. As I reached it I felt a pop in my pelvis. When I looked down, over my burgeoning tits and my steadily shriking cock, I did not find my balls hanging.

"Holy shit."

My ears perked up.

Didn't I recognize the voice that came from my throat?

A long thin line of fluid fell from between my legs. I kicked my legs in response. I kicked as hard as I could and my legs barely budged. And then suddenly I stood up. I looked down, seeing my cock was now a paltry one inch nub, peeking just below my develping pubic mound, with a hood of pink flesh slowly developing above it. My hips were wider and my tummy had tightened. God, I was so pale. The stockings walked to the couch across the room, my plumpening ass bouncing behind me. They turned and sat down.

My cock was gone. My chest had slowed it's growth. Oh, god. I was a. . .

In shock I watched as the stockings spread my legs wide and my hands pulled over my new tits.

I didn't know what to do. I watched. I watched the gloves work on my new body, rolling over my tits, brushing by the throbbing pink clit my cock had become.

I watched. I watched it happen. Feeling each sensation. Naive to the fact the gloves and stockings were breaking me in.

My thighs spread wider. It was coming. I knew it was coming, and I let it.

The fingers of my glove curled and slipped inside my pussy.

This was when James walked into the room.

"I heard a commotion and came to check. Oh good. It seems you are ready."

"Holy shit, dude, what's happening to me?"

He stood motionless and shrugged. "I can't live without her."

My eyebrows arched in confusion. "Who?" The gloves were speeding up, still fingering my dripping pussy.

"Stockings, stand up and walk to the mirror. Gloves, you may continue your work."

My body fell back, my feet planting hard into the ground and pulling my body up to standing position, fingers still in my pussy. I strolled slowly to the mirror.

"Oh my god."

"Alexa."

I leaned forward. I was close. My fingers took me over the edge. I came, gushing onto James's guest room floor.

He stood for a moment, and then he spoke. "Alexa. Join your husband in the living room."

Thus began the hour of struggle down his hallway, down the stairs. I fought as hard as I could. I cursed James. I did my very best, clinging to door frames, the staircase, anything.

But now here I am. The accessories around my thighs and arms have won.

"I'm going to sit in the couch." James said. "And you are free to do as you like."

"Fuck you. Change me back."

James shook his head. "This is not a time to curse. This is a time for celebration." He breathed deeply and licked his lips. "Do you recall the verses read at Alexa's and my wedding? You were there. You were my best man, remember?"

"Please." I could feel my pussy, flush from my fingering and the struggle that had ensued on my way downstairs to the living room. I felt vulnerable. Naked.

"They went something like: 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.'”

James smiled and slipped off his flannel pajama pants revealing his cock, which was already filling with blood. My eyes widened.

“'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for out of man she was taken.'”

I pulsed my pussy in spite of myself. Fuck, I was a woman now.

James took off his shirt and sat down on the couch. My stockings began to stir. I was moving. I was standing. I was turning away from James. I was sitting. Oh fuck.

"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife." James breathed deeply and I could feel it down my back, through my long hair, and over my ass. The head of his cock planted into the shallows of my pussy. My lips coated him invitingly in my feminine juices.

"And they will become one flesh. And they will be fruitful — and multiply."

My stockings forcefully spread my legs over his one leg at a time, putting me into place to straddle him. My mind reeled at how casually my body moved into place.

One flesh. Man and woman. Bound together throughout eternity.

"That's right, dear. Climb on. Settle in where you belong."

James planted his cock deep inside of me. The fullness of it was like a revelation. My tired body was suddenly invigorated from having best friend's cock throbbing inside of me. The moans of his wife poured from my lips.

"The stockings and gloves contain the essence of my wife's spirit. They move like her. Feel the pleasure of giving into her way." He pulsed his cock inside of me. "Feel your husband's cock between your legs and give in. Oh, Alexa. It's so nice to feel you again."

I turned to look at James. Much to my chagrin, his cock was already a welcome presence deep in my pussy. This wasn't happening — was it? He kept repeating her name wistfully. Alexa, Alexa, Alexa.

I began to move on his cock. My fingers falling despite me, settling in to touch my clit.

My legs kicked up and released, lifting me to the head of his cock and then falling with gravity. The impact was maddening. Still my legs kicked up, making me fuck him. Alexa's moans began to pour from my lips.

My hands pawed at my new tits. Sweeping past my erect nipples which now swung at their apexes. My beautiful long hair running down to the small of my back.

Oh God.

I tried one last time to struggle, but she was moving. Alexa was moving me and I didn't have the strength to fight it.

I let her move. Feeling how James cock was sooo much better than my dainty feminine fingers had been earlier. I welcomed it inside of me.

I came. And then I came again. Until my orgasms arrived in multiples and I lost count.

The way Alexa moved — it was so shameless and sensual. I hardly realized the stockings and gloves were teaching me. Teaching me how to move like a woman, teaching me to fuck.

I didn't want to be James' wife. I knew once I regained my strength I promised myself I would continue to fight. But in the moment, I went with the flow, amazed at James prowess and ability to last.

My compliance was awarded with orgasm after orgasm. Each was welcome. Each more enlightening than the last.

When he finally came inside of me, I sat in bliss, impaled on his cock, full of his seed, enjoying their afterglow of our sex. We lay together silently for a long time. My body was flooded with oxytocin and estrogen. I felt close to him. Loved.

But then my stockings stirred. I stood. And fell to my knees.

"Oh god, no. Not this. Please. I'm not ready."

"Come now. Alexa loves sucking cock. It's her favorite. I think you will like it in your mouth."

"No. I need to wait. Can't we fuck a bit more?" Oh god. What was I saying?

"No. It is time for you to pleasure your husband."

The gloves were pulling my face into him. I could smell the scent of my pussy's sweetness intermingled with his own. My hand was around his cock. It was hard. I realized I liked it that way. I breathed in in breathless horror.

It was then, with my mouth open, the gloves took the opportunity to pull me forward.

Oh god.

James has made me his wife.

He's converted my body from six feet to five and a few inches. He's given me pert tits and fucked my brains out. And now I'm sucking his thick cock, tasting the mix of our juices left along its veiny contours from fucking all night.

The gloves are moving and I'm not fighting them. My mouth is wide and my teeth open at their own accord. This cock has given me so much pleasure, it belongs to my best friend, I would never think of biting down on it. Oh god, it pushes so deep.

My hair has grown long like Alexa's. It tickles my ass now, which I stick out behind me, even as I polish this hard rod in my mouth. I'm desperate to be fucked again.

"Please fuck me."

"This was always Alexa's favorite. I very much doubt those stockings will be standing up until you take me all the way."

Oh fuck. Her favorite? My nippled harden at the news.

James is going to come down my throat.

My strength is returning, yet the gloves and stockings give way. I'm moving like they would want, I'm moving like Alexa. This was her favorite. I'm suddenly seeing why. I romance my hubby's cock. I know if I struggle the black clinging to my feminine form will pull me back in line.

The promise of forced compliance makes me dripping wet. It makes me feel like James's wife. I suck his cock, realizing by some strange crossing of fate that it was my funeral I had attended in the morning. Alexa was still very much alive.

I'm her.

If I must be her then: Why fight it?

I muster some strength and pull away from James cock, only to have the gloves latch around his thighs and pull me back. I moan and make a flurry of delicate licks along the underside of his cock.

Suddenly, I'm convinced. I'm ready to play. I'm Alexa.

Til death do us part.

.

.

Thank you for reading!