Guys and Dolls

Each of the bizarre mannequins was standing at attention, with their hands at their sides, while their mouths were wide agape, like a surreal sex doll.

Cassie's own senses were registering heat, thoughts, desires and needs from each and every one of them. A human's own natural heat, but combining in the hundreds to make the succubi feel like she'd walked into a furnace.

With a click of her fingers, her civilian clothes dissolved into miniature feather-like shreds before disappearing completely as she teleported them back to her apartment.

She walked up to one of the dolls – a tall and voluptuous model with flowing and golden locks, and peered closely at it.

The woman beneath was breathing, so at least she wasn't killed by whatever process had mummified her so. The plastic coating that covered her spread across her eyes, but as Cassie peered closer, she could see them frantically roving around their sockets beneath the film.

From the outside, each one of them projected an image of complete serenity and stillness, but inside it appeared there was a girl longing to get out.

Cassie pushed on, past dozens of girls in a similar predicament, before she spied a sleek black door with a sign marked "Packaging Corridor" above it.

Deciding that there was nothing else of note to glean from the main room and that helping the girls now would attract attention, she approached the door and looked for a way through.

There was no handle at all on the door's surface, and nor could she see any kind of hinge at its side.

As she stepped in for a closer look, a hole suddenly appeared in the centre of the door as it contracted, like a muscular orifice to grant her passage.

With another click of her fingers, her hand sprouted a bloom of blue flame, which cast a light into the dark corridor that lay beyond.

It could have been her imagination but as she set foot inside, Cassie could have sworn she heard very feminine moaning.

Venturing further in, a symphony of feminine cries greeted her, as shapes bulged outwards from the wall. Turning to illuminate each one in turn, she saw a shifting mass of what looked like an oil slick sliding and spreading across the wall of the corridor.

But spaced at various intervals along the wall were bodies – live, female bodies. They were encased within the slick black walls themselves, and they writhed and contorted in a disjointed symphony as it slipped and flowed across their bodies.

The black cocoon that held them seemed to be skin tight, and each one appeared to be completely naked beneath. Only their heads emerged from the walls, while their bodies were held flat against it, their weight fully supported with their legs spread.

Cassie gasped as her supernatural senses soaked up the overwhelming sexual energy being generated from inside the room. It had almost sneaked up on her, but now – fully exposed to it – it felt like someone had used the room as a sexual nuclear generator.

Her nipples instinctively hardened and a dribble started to work its way down toward her thighs. Unconsciously her hand edged, ever so slowly towards her crotch...

With a steely resolve she pulled it back and carried on, until a familiar face in the wall caught her attention.

"Mary-Jane?" she said, as she approached it. "Mary-Jane Ellis?"

The girl was panting heavily, and the look on her face was one Cassie had come to recognise on girls her age from numerous past encounters – one that spoke of previous fear, but a more recent surrender.

"Ah... ah... can't stop... can't stop..." she gasped as she tried to communicate.

"Can't stop... hah... cominnnngggg...."

Her eyes screwed shut, and as Cassie knelt down to inspect, she saw through the glossy black substance coating her body that her pussy was spasming in the grip of strong orgasmic seizures.

Even as the contractions subsided, still the coating kneaded and manipulated the girl's clitoris and folds of her pussy lips, both of which were clearly defined in the substance. It even appeared to have flown inside, presumably stimulating poor Mary-Jane from within.

As she gazed, lost in thought, Cassie's inquisitive nature got the better of her and she reached out to touch the substance.

"Don't worry Mary-Jane, I'm with the police department," she murmured, trying to work out precisely what the stuff was.

"We'll get you out, all of you."

Whatever it was, it was cool to the touch and had a rubbery texture, like latex. But as Mary-Jane tried to pull her hand back from it, she found it had somehow been bonded to the substance.

The succubus frowned as her hand rested, stuck on Mary-Jane's sex. With greater urgency, waves of the substance centred in on the area, and began to trickle round her fingertips, before spreading across the top of each digit.

She started to grow a bit more concerned at this latest development and pulled it back quickly. With one strong tug, her hand came free, but pulled some of the inky black liquid with it. It spread across her hand, somehow self-replicating itself, until her entire right hand was coated with a shiny black glove.

The substance, which tingled with an oily coolness, spread further onto her wrist and continued upwards until her entire arm was coated. Frantically, she reached across to tug it off with her left hand, but instantly regretted the decision as the liquid inevitably spread to her other set of fingers and had soon engulfed her other arm.

Now both the limbs were coated in the slick substance, which spread a cool wave as it continued to head towards her collarbone. Her arms however, were no longer feeling quite the same. With the all-encompassing liquid sheen covering them and trapping heat, Cassie's arms were beginning to feel quite warm beneath it.

As the liquid spread down further, towards her chest, the coating on her arms started to knead and pull softly at her flesh, working loose the tension in her arms. Cassie responded by trying to flex her arms, but it only encouraged the stuff to increase its ministrations.

"What are you?" she wondered out loud, it slipped down the hemispheres of her breasts.

As it reached the bottom of each globe, the slick tar lifted each upright until they were supported beyond the ability of even her sluttiest tight-fitting top. Even as her stomach became smeared in a liberal coating of the stuff, Cassie found herself admiring the prominent appearance it gave to her chest.

'Actually, this isn't so bad,' she thought to herself. 'Maybe I'll just see what else it can do for my bod. I can always disapparate it if it gets out of hand.'

The strategy took a downturn when the blue flame that had been burning inches from her palm finally flickered out, after nearly a minute of Cassie not concentrating on it.

She gasped shortly after that when the oily substance reached the bottom of her buttocks and the icy wave at its edge slipped under her crotch. As it slid down her thighs, she felt it tug softly on her clit as a suction engulfed her labia. It was as if it was coaxing the succubus into giving up the fight to enjoy the sensation – and it was doing a very good job.

Little waves of pleasure flowed across every inch of her body that was covered in the shiny black coating. Combined with the moans of feminine pleasure that surrounded her, Cassie was sorely tempted to let go of the fight and join them.

'Would it be so bad?' she wondered as it slid over the ends of her toes, completing the neck to feet encasement of the succubus.

'It's still under control. I'll get rid of it.... aaahh...' The pulsing pleasure caressing her folds upped the tempo.

'...just as soon as it gets me off.'

A soft moan escaped her lips as she began to join the others in a chorus of sensual bliss. Her entire body was being massaged and manipulated by the magical substance, which was quickly turning her into putty in its grasp. Putty to be moulded into the perfect model of euphoric ecstasy.

That last thought felt to Cassie so... so...

'deliciously sexy' formed the words in her head, unbidden as she sank onto her hands and knees, her body losing the battle to stay upright in the masterful grasp of the substance.

But that only helped pushed the captured succubus over the edge, sending her careening into an orgasm.

And as she tried to pick her mind back up again to fend off the being, she was hit once again by another series of pleasurable pulses across her entire body, causing her to collapse onto her side, now lying on the floor as the last of the fight left her muscles.

Cassie had experienced orgasms often – whether through a charmed victim giving her oral, or in darker days where she simply rode a man until she came, regardless of his well-being. What she wasn't used to however, was being subjected to several in quick succession, and she quickly found the constant stimulation was making it impossible to gather the focus required to attack the spell with magic.

"Aaaaagggh....!!!!" she exploded again in the unrelenting embrace of the slick coating, which tightened its grip on her body, as if it really was drying latex.

By about the fifth orgasm, Cassie was losing track of time, and was left to flounder in the sexual oblivion, until a ripping sound signalled that the door 'orifice' had opened once again.

Light flooded the chamber, blinding the succubus as two heavily built men wandered in.

"There she is, right where Plastique said she'd be."

"Be careful just to use your gloves and not to let it slip under – you don't want that shit touching your skin. Not unless you want to join the ladies here."

The other man snorted.

"Would that be so bad?"

"Not until Plastique finds you..."

"Yeah yeah, I hear ya."

As they got closer, the two men, who appeared to be dressed in thick hazardous matter suits grabbed the still stimulated Cassie by one arm each and started to drag her off.

"Come on, we got to get you to the display room, succubitch."

***

"So then, Mr Longstaff. What can I do for you?"

Dirk gulped and tried to concentrate. Plastique was Hellspawn alright. The impossibly beautiful face, the left side of which was obscured by a slick mop of hair. The unobtainable figure that no woman could realistically hope to achieve – that blend of bountiful breasts and wide hips without an inch of puppy fat elsewhere. Even the dress – a highly reflective latex corset that blossomed into a long, flowing skirt as it passed her waist had seemed almost to shimmer and float of its own volition as she walked in.

He slid the photo of Mary-Jane across the desk towards her.

"Ms Plastique, this girl went missing in the area a week or so ago. We're just conducting some routine enquiries, checking if anyone might have seen anything.

"She doesn't look at all familiar, does she?"

Plastique was completely expressionless as she glanced at the photo before handing it back.

"Sorry Inspector, I've no memory of seeing this girl."

"I'd heard you had a few vacancies going at the moment for women about her age – she didn't happen to enquire about a job perhaps? You must get so many it could be easy to forget a face."

Plastique frowned.

"Who told you I was hiring?"

"Oh, you know, it was just one of those snippets of conversation you overhear. Forgive me, but I'm still not entirely sure what your business is. Do you design clothes?"

"I..." Plastique was about to answer when a black phone on her desk rang with a shrill little bell.

"Excuse me... Hello? Yes? I see, very good."

She put the receiver down and looked back up at Dirk.

"Mr Longstaff, I believe we have something of yours in lost and found."

Dirk's blood froze – did she mean Cassie? He'd told her to go in stealthily!

Plastique got up from her chair and sauntered over to a nearby filing cabinet, before pulling out the top draw, followed by the bottom and then the centre draw. She then closed the bottom, followed by the top and then the centre.

This presumably secret combination triggered a shudder from a nearby bookcase, which shook slightly before sinking into the floor and exposing a hidden arch in the door behind it.

"Please follow me Mr Longstaff."

Dirk got up and followed Plastique as she marched through the doorframe, her dress followed by its own rippling trail of latex that flowed behind her.

She turned left and sauntered down a corridor that sat at a right angle to her study and led the way for the anxious detective. In spite of his concern for his colleague however, Dirk found he was still taking the time to admire Plastique's well-defined ass, which sat atop the flow of her skirt and bobbed from side to side with every step.

'If only she wasn't an evil kidnapper,' a darkly comedic part of his mind laughed bitterly.

Eventually they reached a red door marked 'Display Room and Private Quarters'. Plastique fished a key out of the cleavage of her dress, unlocked it and held it open for Dirk.

"Please, after you."

Curiosity got the better of the detective's manners and he walked right in. The interior of the room was covered in satin sheets that hung from the walls in decorative pleats, while the floor was quilted with a bright red shag carpet.

Four mannequins were positioned, two at each opposing side of the room, facing dead ahead, arms at sides.

What held his attention however was the centrepiece of the room. Hanging from the ceiling was a cuboid frame consisting of 12 poles that faced him at torso level. Inside these poles was a black latex sheet – much like the one flowing from behind Plastique – and inside that sheet was...

"Cass..." yelled Dirk.

The succubus was covered from neck to toe in a the sheeting, which clung round the poles of the frame. Her body was being held upright by the material, which seemed to be sliding around her.

Her breasts were perched prominently upright and looked almost like they were being squeezed, while her crotch – which was held open for all to see between two spread legs – was clearly being manipulated by the stuff.

Her face was flushed as her body shivered at the attentions of the substance, and she was panting uncontrollably.

"She's been in there for several hours now," Plastique whispered in his ear.

Dirk jumped; he hadn't heard her sneak up on him.

"It's called 'living latex' and it could very well make my business one of the richest on earth."

"What-what... is it?" Dirk gasped.

"Well, as I'm sure you've guessed, Inspector Longstaff, I'm not exactly... human.

"I was... so glad to get out of that prison I'd been kept in for the last few sands of eternity."

Sands... Dirk recognised that word – it was a period of time used by Hellspawn to talk about time spent in the Pit. Down there, seconds would pass as months, years as centuries – making it impossible to ever know how long a demon had been around for. The scribbled notes left behind by humans who had been dragged into it spoke of insanity and chaos, but had left scholars with the impression that once inside, they had stopped ageing. It was all irrelevant though as no-one who had gone in had ever returned. Either that, or they had gone into hiding.

Plastique was continuing undeterred.

"Naturally, when I left I wanted to enjoy myself. And that means spreading pleasure to all your kind.

"That's where living latex comes in. It's nothing artificial, I don't make it – it's merely an extension of me. It can take the form of clothing, bedsheets or, in this case," she indicated Cassie.

"A vacuum cube. "The 'latex' is actually a conscious membrane that envelops its prey and seeks out its most sensitive, delightful areas, pleasuring them over and over..." she sighed. "Forever."

She smiled knowingly at him.

"Which girl wouldn't want a killer dress that can do that?"

"There's a slight flaw in your plan, Plastique," Dirk pointed out.

"After a couple of days, the 'wearers' are going to get hungry. Not long after that they'll starve to death. "Won't be very good for business."

"Oh Mr Longstaff," she chuckled. "They'll only starve if I want them to. "I'm hardly going to kill off paying customers, what kind of businesswoman do you take me for?

"You see, you really don't know much about us demons. I am the latex – it is me and I am it, both the same. Neither one is an extension of the other, and I control every atom of its being, and will continue to do so for as long as I produce more living latex.

"But I can also sustain every organism caught in its irresistible grip, for as long as I wish. They shall never die, but live, forever, as my toy."

She giggled into her hand.

"Their toy will make them my toy. Ironic really. Oh, how I do love pleasing you humans."

Dirk snarled in anger as his lips curled.

"But why, what would you do this to people?"

Plastique pouted at him.

"I'm just an honest demon trying to make a living for myself now I've escaped the torment of down below. Can you blame me for that?"

Dirk very much doubted it was the demons who were tormented inside that cavern.

"Now this one we caught her sneaking around in here and so I did a bit of digging around," Plastique said, as she turned her attention back to the succubus.

"I gather she's an accomplice of yours – your partner in the fight against crime. But – naughty, naughty, officer – I hear she's a succubus. One of my guards' brother was attacked by her a few months ago."

Dirk closed his eyes and bit his tongue. Goddamit Cass.

"If you go now, I'll get her out of here and let her go with you."

Dirk wasn't buying it.

"And what about these missing girls? What happens to them?"

"Oh, pfft. That job offer was a front – they came for their free sample of 'living latex' from a hot new fashion designer.

"But, in a funny way, they are kind of 'employed' by me now."

She walked up to a one of the nearby mannequins and brushed a hand down its chest.

For the first time since he walked in, Dirk looked at it in detail. Its hair looked too real to be a wig, the features too realistic to be solid plastic, and as he got closer, he saw eyes beneath the film that extended over them...

"They're... they're the..." he gasped.

"Yes," confirmed Plastique. "I have a special use for the girls who came to me directly. I'm a little short on help round here, and why have hulking great thugs who you have to pay when you can have such beautiful dolls as these help you for free?"

She brushed her hand against the doll's cheek.

"They will enjoy their time here ever so."

"But are-are they even alive in there?"

Plastique turned to him.

"Oh yes, they just can't move... yet. Given a little encouragement, you'll soon find you can get humans eating out of your hand."

She raised her right hand up into the air and began to mutter the words of a forgotten language, while the supposed latex on her dress slid along her arm and congealed in a rolling ball in her palm.

The nearby "dolls" shuddered and gasped in response, taking an uneven step forward, before regaining their balance.

"You see, humans are very easy to control," said Plastique, apparently done with her chanting.

The dolls continued to moan softly as she spoke over the top of them.

"All you need do, is a bit of mild sensory deprivation – dulling awareness, rather than cutting it off – and by mixing that with an overload of the pleasure centres of their brain, you can reach right in there and tell them to do, well, whatever you want.

"Their attention will be... elsewhere and won't be able to concentrate on resisting your commands."

"That's monstrous!" cried Dirk amidst muffled cries of pleasure.

"Oh come, honey. I've been making use of my dolls here for months now. None have come to harm, and as you can see, they've all thoroughly enjoyed their time working for me.

"I'm lonely here, and they're so beautiful this way. ...can you blame me for wanting some company?"