The Latex Seal

Vane guides Marcus into a dim chamber where a full-body latex suit hangs from steel hooks, its surface catching the low light, and a padded chair sits before a console with a flickering screen. 'Your reward,' Vane says, pressing Marcus into the chair, and straps his wrists to the armrests as a helmet-like device lowers over his head. A soft, rhythmic hum fills the room, and Vane's voice becomes a low, measured cadence: 'You will relax. You will obey. You will become what I need.' Marcus's body goes slack, the plug pulsing inside him, and Vane begins to roll the latex up his calf, the cool rubber clinging to his skin as the first words of the trance take hold.