It was all Maria could do to follow at Grace's heels like a lost puppy. Her girlfriend was striding through this bizarre labyrinth as if she had lived her entire life here. Each corridor they moved through looked utterly identical to the last, cold, black, narrow passages lined with candles, clouds of incense swirling in their dim light, and that ever-present hum of the choir permeating from every direction with no visible source. Grace would lead Maria down a length of corridor, only to abruptly stop and reveal another hidden door set into the wall. They had only been walking for about five minutes, but Maria already knew an attempt to her way back to the small room she had awoken in in would be impossible.

“What is this place?” Maria asked hesitantly. Her mind was still in a haze, pleasurable waves pulsing from her overly sensitive pussy with every step, each inhale of that intoxicating smoke dashing any anxieties that might be welling within her. At the very least her throat had recovered enough that she was able to talk.

“My home,” Grace answered, an almost dreamy tone to her voice. “One I have been away from for many years.” The tall, imposing trans woman stopped again and turned to one of the walls, placing a hand on its smooth surface and closing her eyes. She took a long, deep breath, dipping her head as she did; to Maria, it looked as if she was in some sort of silent prayer, the choir surrounding them intoning a deep approval toward her reverence. The moment passed in only a few seconds, Grace opened her eyes and slowly pushed into the wall, revealing another door.

“That's not a real answer,” Maria followed her girlfriend through the door, yet another narrow passage awaited the two of them on the other side. She was surprised to find her voice suddenly had a lot more weight to it, her annoyance at Grace's cryptic behaviour seemed to be enough to cut through the mental fog somewhat.

“I know,” Grace didn't skip a beat as she continued the long march to wherever they were going, her latex cape and skirt billowing behind her. The calm authority in her voice never wavered for a second. “It's as I said before, all will be explained in-”

“No!” Maria finally snapped, balling up all her frustration in an attempt to keep a clear head. “No, I think I deserve some kind of an explanation! You dosed me with god knows what, brought me to this weird place, showed up wearing what is admittedly a very sexy getup and won't even tell me what's going on!”

Grace stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face Maria. “I-” she started, that aura of confidence finally slipping a notch as she looked back at her girlfriend's fierce expression. There seemed to be a pause in the choir's song as Grace froze up. Maria did her best to maintain her piercing glare, but with the sudden lapse of that strange chanting, she became aware of an emptiness within her, one that only the choir could fill.

In the three years Maria had known her girlfriend, she'd learned that Grace was not one for conflict between partners. Despite being able to unflinchingly stare down and threaten anyone who so much as looked at Maria the wrong way, if Maria herself was even slightly annoyed at her, she would fold like a wet tissue to avoid any kind of argument. Grace was noticeably less affected by that shyness in this strange place, but Maria's gaze seemed to be enough to cause her girlfriend's face to twist with concern and her shoulders to sag in defeat.

“Look,” Grace was finally able to say after a long pause, the choir apprehensively resuming its chant. “There is a great deal of work to do, and there will be many more questions, not all of which can be answered with words alone-”

“Try for me,” A lot of the venom Maria had wanted to put into her retort dissipated as another wave of arousal wracked her body, allowing the incense's potent effects to addle her mind again. Grace seemed to notice her girlfriend's lapse in concentration, seizing the opportunity to recompose herself, moving to clasp both of Maria's hands in her own, pressing in so close they could feel each other's breath on their skin. Maria felt her cheeks turn red as her lover's latex-clad silhouette towered over her small figure. Grace's blue eyes seemed to bore into her very soul as she stared into them; they were like an anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within her.

“A long time ago, I was in a place not unlike the one you were in,” Grace said in a low voice, pulling Maria in close. “Like you, I was struggling. Like you, the world was closing in on me from all corners. A sister on missionary duty took notice and brought me into our convent. I didn't understand it all at first, but I came to understand that-”

Grace was cut off again by the sound of a door opening behind her, followed by a set of footsteps marching directly toward the two of them.

“Shit,” Grace muttered under her breath, the chanting faltering once again along with some of her composure. She moved to one side of the passage to allow room for the figure to pass, pulling Maria with her, who stumbled into her girlfriend's side as she nearly lost her footing.

The figure approaching them looked a lot like Grace. She was shorter, noticeably rounder and heavier set than she was, moving with an almost robotic stride and clutching a black, leather-bound tome in her arms. Like Grace, she wore a matching latex suit with a rubber harness that supported a half-skirt and a corset, lending her an amazingly voluptuous figure. Unlike Grace, her shoulders were draped with a shawl that wrapped around her front and down just over her shoulders. She also sported a golden symbol on her corset; however, instead of Grace's five stars orbiting a central star, hers had only three in orbit.

The most striking difference, however, was the headgear the woman was wearing, a sleek, black helmet, halfway between a gas mask and a motorcycle helmet. The mask didn't seem to have any kind of visor, only a matte finish that obscured any identifying features. Maria stared, transfixed at the totally encased woman as she moved past them without any acknowledgment, her quiet footsteps and the faint hissing from the mask being the only sounds she made. The sight of her sent a shiver down Maria's spine, she looked unbelievably enticing, like something from any number of the erotic stories she had read in the past.

“Sister,” Grace stated, noticing Maria's abject fascination. “Stop. Turn to face us,” she instructed, the tone of her voice and the echoing chant of the choir lending her a commanding power that could not be denied. The alluring woman, without hesitation, stopped dead in her tracks and turned on the spot to face the two lovers. Her posture was perfect, her breathing steady and disciplined as she stared directly ahead, her mask giving nothing away. Grace swiftly moved to stand beside the stationary figure, leaving Maria to sway unsteadily from the sudden lack of support.

“What are you-?” Maria's voice quiet and breathy, her eyes fixed on the latex-clad pair

“This,” Grace interjected, standing to the woman's left, placing her hands possessively on the woman's shoulders, “is one of my sisters. She doesn't have a name, none of us do. She is wrapped in our sacred cloth, with nothing but faith and love in her soul.”

“The cloth?” asked Maria, “You mean?”

“I do,” Grace started slowly moving her hands down the sister's arms, her hands gliding so effortlessly across the slick rubber. “A wonderful gift from the Choir. Stronger than steel, self-regulating, and supple in a way traditional latex can never be. It both protects and nourishes the body, meaning it can be worn indefinitely.”

Grace continued to glide her hands along the sister's body, cupping her ass and moving another hand to grope a tit. It didn’t seem to elicit any kind of reaction from the woman. The two figures' rubber forms reflected the light of the candles the same way the walls and floors of this place did, the delicious smoke of the incense hovered around their perfect figures, making them appear almost as one single entity. Maria gasped shakily and her eyes widened at the sight before her, and at the honeyed words falling from her lover’s mouth. She was forced to steady herself against the wall as the arousal in her body surged once again.

“You-” Maria pushed herself to stay focused, she had to know more. “What is the Choir?”

“You’ve been hearing it since you arrived here,” Grace brought her hands together as they caressed the motionless sister, meeting at the base of her crotch. “The divine music that brought our convent together, that guides our thoughts and actions in perfect unity. In perfect harmony.”

Grace waved her hands over the sister's crotch, as if by magic, the latex began to reform itself around the area, revealing the large woman's pussy, it was dripping wet. The chanting, the Choir, echoed the arousal of all three women, gently tugging and teasing at Maria until she had butterflies in her stomach and her knees went weak. She was holding onto the wall for dear life as her breathing became ragged and laboured.

“You said you don't have names,” Maria felt so feeble now in the face of what she was seeing, what little will she had been able to muster was starting to crumble. “This is some kind of weird cult, isn't it? Is Grace even your real name?”

“Not an unfair assessment,” Grace conceded, smiling with good humour, if a little deviously. “The truth is, I don't know. I don't remember much of my life before the convent. The name Grace was given to me as I was preparing for missionary work.” The woman Maria knew as Grace began to gently part the lips of the sister's cunt, slowly pushing the fingers of her other hand into the opening, the way she had done to Maria so many times in the past.

Maria's knees went weak again. The sight of her girlfriend so brazenly pleasuring another woman before her own eyes riled her up somewhat, but also twisted her arousal in a way she couldn't help but appreciate. Grace's gaze never left Maria's as her fingers slid in and out of the woman's cunt, the look on her face was positively wicked. The woman receiving all this delicious teasing remained completely still as her clitoris was massaged with rhythmic precision. Not a single sound escaped the helmet except for the steady hissing, the only thing that gave away her arousal was that her already wet pussy was now utterly drenched, dripping all over Grace's rubbery fingers. Maria had never seen anything so hot before.

The three stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds to be heard were Maria's shallow breathing, coupled with the sounds of latex fingers sliding in and out of the sister's sex. There was also, of course, the Choir, harmonizing so perfectly with every one of the women's movements and sounds. It was so perfect, so easy to obey its guiding melody. As Maria gawked at the spectacle before her, she began to become aware of the ever-so-subtle signs of arousal the mute sister was expressing. The way she gripped the tome in her arms just a little too tightly. The way the hissing from the mask, along with the gentle rising and falling of her chest, was slowly quickening in pace. Maria could tell she wanted more than anything to lean her head back and cave into the unbelievable pleasure she was feeling, to let her knees buckle and to scream to the heavens as the arousal overtook her body and mind, but something was stopping her; the Choir, its divine resonance keeping all three women locked in place, allowing the sister to remain perfectly disciplined and obedient.

“This is insane,” was all that Maria was able to whisper amidst the storm of her building arousal. The Choir seemed to disapprove of her weak defiance, but a glimmer of rational thinking was still holding the entranced girl back from utter submission.

“It’s certainly abnormal,” Grace's fingers quickened in pace, her smile curling into a sadistic grin. “But since when were any of us normal? Normal only hurts, normal means the world bearing down on us with nothing but hatred and malice.” There was a fire in Grace’s voice now, a fervour that Maria found both frightening and inspiring. The Choir was lending weight to her every word now, sweeping the young woman into a strange frenzy she had never felt before. Maria wasn’t even touching herself; the Choir didn’t want her to, but she found herself so close to the edge already.

“But here we are safe.” The three women, stimulated or not, were reaching that almost unbearable crescendo once again. United in arousal, united in the wonderful high from the incense, united in obedience to the Choir’s guiding intonation. “Here we know nothing but the endless bliss of worship, the unity of our shared devotion to one another. Here we can show others that there is a better way to exist, a better way to see, to understand. A better way to-”

CUM.

The final word from Grace’s lips was a commandment, beyond words, beyond any kind of mortal comprehension. It struck all three of the women simultaneously like a bolt of lightning. Orgasm boiled up through Maria’s entire body and exploded in a brilliant cacophony. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her back arched, and her knees finally gave out as she collapsed to the floor. She writhed and screamed like a feral animal as wave after wave of ecstasy slammed into her. Even Grace, magnificent as she was, couldn’t help but gasp as her head rolled back and closed her eyes, bringing her slick fingers up to lap at the juices that covered them. The sister remained just as still and statuesque as ever, only the smallest of a shiver rolled across her body as orgasm took her as well, the black latex once again sealing her pussy away from the outside world.

Another sweeping eternity passed. The Choir seemed to pause as it observed the three’s united passion. Maria knew nothing of the strange, faceless woman that now towered over her, but somehow, she now felt as if she had known her all her life. Even Grace, who was starting to recover from her own mind-breaking orgasm, seemed more familiar to her, if such a thing were even possible. The Choir resumed, the sister turned and resumed her march down the corridor like nothing had happened. Maria didn’t seem to mind; she had her duties, as did she now, it seemed.

“And I want to share all of this with you.” Grace leaned down to pick Maria up in her powerful arms. “When I returned to this place with you, I learned that I had been chosen to lead the convent, to carry the will of the Choir upon my shoulders.”

The regal figure above Maria let out a low, anxious chuckle. “It scared me, Maria. It's not my place to question the Choir, but even now, there is doubt in my heart. Doubt that I have what it takes.” Maria gazed adoringly into those blue eyes; the idea that such a powerful woman could ever be scared or doubt her own magnificence seemed absurd.

“So before I give myself wholly to the Choir again, I wanted to bring you into the fold myself.” Grace wasn’t wearing a mask like the other sister Maria had met, but right now her face was just as unreadable. “I wanted you to know me as I am now, one last time, so that I could face my fears with you by my side, just as we always have.”

There was a moment, a hesitation. This time, the Choir did not falter.

“You can say no. If you wish to leave, to put all this behind you, you may do so, but I won't be coming with you.” There was no deception or evil intent in Grace’s words, Maria knew that now. The Choir was whispering everything she needed to hear. She could feel the longing in Grace’s heart, the conflict between her duty to the convent and the love she felt for her, two beliefs she held in equal value, as strongly and as fiercely as she believed in everything else.

“But if you choose to stay,” Grace continued, “I promise that we will always be together, and I promise that what you have felt just now, is only a taste of what is to come.”

The faintest of smiles played across Grace's lips. Maria could see so much in a single smile now. The purity of her love and conviction, the lurid arousal of watching the small woman quivering in her arms as they both rode the aftershock of orgasm, the sadness of knowing that this might be the last time they would be together, and the hope that it wasn’t.

Maria's words tumbled out of her mouth. She was barely aware of them. She sank into the Choir’s guiding melody, letting it speak for her.

“I want to stay with you.” The words were barely a whisper, but they bore the weight of utter submission.

How would she have ever been able to refuse?