THE NEW CLIENT

The door opened on its own. Outside it was raining, inside the shop was warm, red, silent, and the light pulsed slowly, like an invitation.

A boy walked in young, maybe twenty, with messy blond hair and eyes full of suppressed desire. He wore a faux-leather jacket that was too big for him, his hands trembling slightly.

"H-hello?" he said, his voice uncertain. "Do you have… latex clothing?"

There was no answer. The counter was empty, no sign of salesclerks, only distorted reflections in the large, curved mirrors. Then, from the back of the shop, two figures emerged, black, glossy, perfect.

Maya and Lara advanced slowly, wrapped in full-body latex suits so tight they seemed like their own skin. Every movement was a promise, every step an invisible caress. Their faces were still recognizable, beautiful and serene, but their eyes shone with an unnatural deep, collective light.

"Welcome," Maya said, her voice sweet

"Were you looking for something… special?" Lara asked, smiling… a smile that was too wide, too sincere.

The boy swallowed hard. "I… I read about this place. They say you have unique, handcrafted pieces here."

"Oh, yes," Maya murmured, moving closer. "We are all handcrafted… and unique." She placed a hand on his chest. The latex was warm and vibrated slightly beneath her fingers.

"Do you want to try something on?" Lara asked, tracing his neck with a black-gloved fingernail. "We have corsets that cinch in all the right ways. Gloves that never let go. Suits that… take care of you."

The boy blushed. His breathing quickened, he was aroused, frightened, but above all, yearning. "Can I… try one?"

"Of course," Maya said, guiding him toward the dressing room. "But… you have to trust us. You have to let us show you what it truly means to be dressed."

He nodded, mesmerized.

They led him into a cabin larger than the others, lined with mirrors that reflected his body infinitely. On a hook hung a suit, black, with details that looked organic: lines like veins, protrusions along the spine, a zipper that pulsed faintly, like a heart.

"Is it… alive?" the boy asked.

"No," Lara laughed, but it was a cold, metallic sound. "It’s ready. Just for you."

He undressed quickly, too excited to think. When he pulled the suit on, it molded to his body with meticulous precision; it tightened around his muscles, sculpted his thighs, climbed up his neck, and the zipper closed on its own.

As the boy looked at himself in the mirror, admiring how the latex defined his body in a sculptural way, accentuating his muscles, the girls began to touch him. Lara hugged him from behind, her arms wrapped around his torso, her fingers merging with his suit, becoming part of him, whispering in his ear: "Surrender. Let go." She began to kiss his neck. Giulia, meanwhile, took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the lips, then lost herself in a passionate kiss as he responded, his arousal growing.

The boy was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice the latex beginning to move across his skin, creeping up his neck until it was too late. Thin, liquid filaments snaked through his nostrils, his ears, and finally into his mouth.

He tried to speak, to scream, but his lips sealed shut, and the latex began to penetrate, not just on his skin, but inside him. As terror seized him, he felt the two girls caressing every part of his body, whispering, "You are ours, you are beautiful, you are ours."

When the latex completely covered his head, isolating him from the rest of the world, the boy stopped moving. His heart slowed until it merged with the rhythm of the latex, and the two girls pulled away. He stood motionless, like a statue of black ebony. The suit now glowed with an internal light, as if it contained a soul in hibernation.

"He is beautiful," Lara whispered. "He will serve us for a long time."

"Yes," Maya nodded. "He is obedient. Eager."

They carried him into a back room, passing through a hidden door that opened at their approach, and entered a kind of crypt, illuminated by red lights, where other latex suits hung from walls of living rubber.

The air in the room was thick, saturated with the cloying scent of heated rubber and organic secretions. The echo of the two figures' footsteps was muffled by the floor, which was also covered in a synthetic membrane that pulsed under their pressure.

The two girls moved with an unsettling synchronicity and laid him against the back wall an expanse of living latex, a translucent surface veined with dark capillaries that moved slowly, like a circulatory system flowing beneath a skin.

As soon as the boy’s back touched the surface, the wall reacted. The membrane melted into a viscous, warm substance, swallowing his hands and creeping up his forearms like living tar, while his legs were sucked downward into the rubbery material, which tightened with hydraulic pressure. The boy opened his mouth to scream, but the sound died in his throat.

From the wall, thread-like outgrowths, similar to translucent latex tentacles, lashed out toward him. One insinuated itself between his lips, expanding inside his oral cavity with an atrocious slowness, locking his jaw in a forced opening and injecting an aphrodisiac substance. Two others, thin and vibrating like antennae, screwed themselves with surgical precision into his ear canals.

But the horror did not stop there. From the ceiling, another outgrowth descended a massive, translucent proboscis that lowered from above like a predatory hood. With a fluid movement, the tentacle wrapped around the young man’s skull, sliding down his temples and sealing his head in an opaque latex capsule that covered him down to his eyes.

Now, the boy was completely isolated: his ears were invaded by thin, vibrating antennae, his mouth was forced open by an appendage that prevented any cry, and his sight was stolen as the membrane glued itself to his eyelids, dragging him into absolute darkness.

Finally, from the base of the wall, a thicker tentacle emerged, a proboscis of living rubber that, with predatory precision, opened like a fleshy suction cup, completely engulfing his penis. As soon as the contact was established, the boy arched his back in a spasm of pleasure: the tentacle did not merely trap him, but began to pulse rhythmically, creating a vacuum that forcefully drained his vital fluids.

The two girls exchanged an emotionless glance, turned, and walked away, leaving the boy suspended in that rubbery limbo.

"You are our toy now," the collective voice whispered in his mind, "and we will never stop loving you."