Poled

did you know that turning from a boring old human into a synthetic vixen of pure sexuality is kinda hot?

“Hey Heather! I made you a gift!”

The message from Anna confused her, “What?! Why?”

She sent a reply a few seconds later, “Oh, no reason. Turn around!”

How odd! Heather had no idea why Anna was being so cryptic, but she turned around anyway, and as she thought, there was nothing–Wait, what?

In the centre of her room was a pole, one that went from the floor to the ceiling, and one that looked like it was covered entirely in some shiny white material. “What the hell?” Heather got up from her desk to take a closer look at it, circling around it and trying to figure out just how the hell Anna managed to install a pole in the middle of her room without her noticing. The stuff covering it looked weird, too, for some reason it was slightly shimmering. So, naturally, she reached out and touched it.

The moment her finger made contact with the pole, a stream of white latex jumped from it to her hand and engulfed it. Before she even had a chance to pull her hand away, it was sucked towards the pole, and firmly held onto it. Without thinking, she reached her other hand up and tried to pull herself out of the shimmering liquid, only for the same fate to befall that hand too. With both her hands firmly clasped against the metal of the pole, she now had no way of stopping the latex from spreading up her arms. She made a few more desperate attempts to pull herself away from the pole, but quickly realised that accidentally falling forwards might not be the best idea right now.

“Okay, uhh, okay, this is, um…” Heather looked down at her arms as their once skin-coloured tone was replaced by a blank shiny whiteness that never relented in its spread over her body. Strangely enough, it didn’t look like it was just coating her, either, and for some reason her arms almost had the appearance of a developed musculature that Heather herself definitely didn’t have.

The coldness of the latex passed her shoulders, and was now spreading itself onto her torso. She could only watch as her flat chest got engulfed by a wave of goo that didn’t seem to want to stop. Instead of spreading further, the goo crawling onto her body momentarily pooled up at her chest, and soon formed itself into two separate mounds. “O-Oh.” Heather blushed as she realised that her once-flat chest was now a sizeable pair of glossy synthetic tits. The blushing wasn’t going to stop any time soon, because Heather also realised that she was feeling the weight of her new boobs as if they were her own, and… Wait, were they? The newfound strain on her back didn’t last long, as the once-again spreading latex now encircled her torso, giving her support with an upper body strength that she definitely didn’t have before. Looking over her breasts, she saw a toned belly that seemed fit for a supermodel, and more disconcertingly, the wave of latex reaching her pants.

“O-oh god! Nnnf…” The sensation of her dick getting encased in a layer of liquid latex was weird enough, but the changes that followed filled Heather’s mind with a kind of pleasure she couldn’t even grasp. Her member was being moulded by the very material encasing it, somehow reshaping the cock beneath into something smaller, and then flatter, and then deeper… Wait, where was her dick? Surely it was still under the latex, right? “Nnngh, f-fuck!” As Heather felt her newfound slit begin to lubricate herself, she was filled with a baseline level of horniness that clouded her thinking to the point of being unable to stifle her own moaning. After giving herself a few seconds to get used to the incredibly pleasurable sensations she now experienced, she looked over her hefty tits at her new fuckhole. The moment she saw it, that’s all she could think of it as. It wasn’t a cunt, it was a fuckhole. Its puffy entrance made it look like a sex toy that had fuckability as a higher priority in its design than realism, and the goopy string of thick lube dripping from it helped sell it as a near-perfect fuckhole. No, a perfect fuckhole.

She was so entranced by her new custom-designed genitalia that she didn’t even realise that her legs had already been consumed by the latex. She looked down at the pair of vaguely-humanoid digitigrade hind legs and–Wait, what? Why did they look so different? Her bones absolutely didn’t bend like that, was that a second joint? And… Were those paws?! She curled her new toes, getting a glimpse of not only her paw-pads but also the useless rubbery claws they now held. She tried to get a better look by bending her legs back and turning her head around, but she got a look at a lot more at just her paw-pads.

Her ass was huge! It looked almost like it was inflated, but bringing her hand down to give it a squeeze, it felt amazing. Not just from the unexpected pleasure of her now-sensitive butt-cheeks, but also from their somehow both soft and firm texture. It took a few moans from groping her ass before she realised that she could move her hands again. Wait, what? As she tried to pull her other hand off of the pole, it simply stayed stuck, as if glued on. She put her left hand back on it to get a better grip, and just like that, her right hand popped right off. For some reason, she was entirely unable to remove herself from the pole, even now that it had no latex on it. She wondered if gripping it with her thighs or her tail would work–Wait, tail?! Snapping her head back around, she had no idea how she missed the fact that she now had a big bushy white tail. Well, it wasn’t actually bushy, it just had the puffed up appearance of being a bushy vixen tail while still being entirely glossy white rubber.

“Wait…” Heather thought to herself, “How did I know I’m a vixen?”

She didn’t have long to ponder this question, as the latex goo’s actions over the last minute were now made obvious: Surrounding her neck was an ever thickening ring of the latex. The distant thought in the back of her mind wondering why her head hadn’t been covered in the latex was answered as a thick web of goo suddenly shot forth from her neck, spiralling upwards and momentarily surrounding Heather’s head in a bubble of latex before it collapsed right back down onto her.

In an instant, her head was sealed within a layer of latex, and she began to panic. She desperately clawed at her face in an attempt to make a hole she could breathe from, only… Wait, why wasn’t she breathing? When… How long had she not been breathing for? She had no idea how she could’ve missed the fact that both the endless thumping sound of her heartbeat and her need to breathe had vanished upon her chest being encased in latex. At that moment, the fact that she was no longer human, or even organic, sunk in.

That didn’t mean she could just stop struggling, though. With all 8 of her rubber-claw-tipped fingers, she desperately pulled at the blank latex covering her face in an attempt to pull it off. Luckily, her new paw-pads helped her find just enough grip to start pulling at the latex on her mouth. She tugged as hard as she could, stretching out the latex further and further, but… Wait… Why did it feel like she was stretching out her very maw?

Before Heather had the chance to react to the realisation that she was far from pulling the latex off of her face, she had already finished the process. She felt the latex surface of her now-deformed face, and quickly realised what it reminded her of. She had a muzzle. A long pointed muzzle that, without even seeing it, completed her appearance of a white latex vixen. Running her hands over the rest of her still-blank head, she felt out the rest of the changes that occurred. For one thing, her ears were definitely not where she remembered them being. Now they were pointed, and sitting on top of her head. Instead of the curly hair she once had, a simulacrum of something far shorter was sitting on her head. Like her tail, she could tell that it was a glossy latex version of some spiky feminine hair-do.

Her mouth unsealed itself, with her eyes quickly following. Instead of the gasp she was expecting from being without oxygen for so long, there was nothing. She was pretty sure she didn’t even have nostrils, beyond the shallow divots in her snout that were needed to sell her vixen appearance.

As she looked around, she realised that she was no longer in even remotely the same place. Her and the pole she was anchored to were now in a room they both looked far more suited to be in. She was in her Owner’s strip club.

“W-wait, what? I-I don’t have an owner!” She blurted out as she realised the thought she just had. But the verbal protests didn’t help, and as a figure walked towards her from the catwalk behind her, that same invasive thought returned. That was her owner.

“Oh? If you don’t have an owner, then who am I?”

She looked at her owner. She could see her fine, and whatever her eyes were now, they functioned perfectly, but it was like her perception was being filtered somewhere else. She tried to describe to herself what the woman looked like, but any trait she tried to grasp onto was replaced by, simply, ‘Owner’.

“Y-You’re my owner…”

“Good toy!”

A wave of pleasure rushed through her mind as her owner called her a good toy, one that completely knocked away the indignation of being called a toy. She was a good toy! “Mmnnf t-thank you, Owner–No, wait! I-I’m not your toy! What do you want? Why can’t I let go of this pole?!”

“Oh, that’s all very simple! For one thing, I requested the bird that you come pre-installed with a contact-lock that made sure nobody could steal you off of your stage! Don’t worry, the extra education you now have on pole-dancing will make sure you’ll keep everyone’s attention tonight.”

Her owner was right. She could tell that she had the skills and the strength to pole-dance as gracefully and sensually as she needed to, and she didn’t exactly have to worry about stamina with this form. “I-I… That doesn’t matter! I’m not dancing for you, even if you are my Owner!”

“Anna helped me out with that, too. She let me know that it wouldn’t take much for you to realise your position as my property. You just need a little push! And hey, let’s see… Look at your thigh.”

She lifted into the air and twirled upside down, accidentally performing another stunt of athleticism in the process of achieving a simple task, and looked at her leg. On her side was the only black latex on her body, in the form of a bar code, and her eyes went wide. Immediately upon seeing her identification tag and proof of ownership, its mind clicked into place. The deepest protocols embedded within its consciousness set its obedience to their proper levels, and assigned its Owner the status she deserved.

“Ooh, you look cute when your protocols are in charge. Now, put on a show, toy, and make sure the crowds love you!”

The toy prepared the pheromone production it would require for tonight’s dance, and upped its lubrication in preparation for the endless mid-dance fucking it would be receiving because of it.

“Yes Mistress!”