Pg 2: Into The Mask~ by hallowsjojo2000 on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

art by hallowsjojo2000

Page 2

I hold the hood for a few minutes now, taking in the sight of her ghostly lenses gazing back at me, complemented by rustling foleys of creaking latex as I handle my fingers under the headpiece's jawline. The optics finally flicker to life, displaying her hypnotic swirls on their screens, and bouncing the light onto my face.

My mind feels dazed, lightheaded, and disoriented but it’s like the sensation you’d
get when you board a ship that’s on the waters. Coincidently enough, I’m a headpiece closer to becoming the main passenger of this suit. Her psychological influence is not designed to force me into acting against my will. On the contrary, her “trance” is the very rhythm that gets me into the mood to become the rubber woman for the evening.

Back when I was little, I used to watch the mind-control trope utilized in Saturday morning cartoons as well as anime; often portrayed as antagonistic of course. There are many types of mind control methods out there, hypnosis, brainwashing, and any type of outside influences. But at its core like a kitsune the idea’s a mixed bag. Brainwashing was used by MK Ultra as well as other former regimes leaving behind lasting effects.

On the other hand, Hypnosis was never a sin in the bible, doctors use it in the field of psychology to help patients with mental ailments. I love the sensation of being m plugged into a machine and experimented on for kinky delights.

Hearing the voices and droning loops of scientists is like the equivalent of recreational drug use, minus the physical side effects. The idea of warping your senses and viewing reality was the most exciting and fun thing to me. I fantasize about myself standing perfectly upright with my arms at my side and my thighs pressed together, facing forward for a brief of my objectives.

No complicated thoughts, no worries, just a simple straight line.A beautiful statuesque figure posing elegantly, like I was a robot or a playable character in a game. The suit would serve as the interface, my heads-up display, rendering animal error out of the question.My pupils fade into the waters of the iris, as the colors shift into an ascending sky gradient.

My cheekbones relax, my mouth hangs open, and my eyes are perfectly focused on the stream. The subliminal commands signal me to turn the mask over and open the back of the hood. As the vertical seams widen, I’m greeted by the same beam of light, this time housed in a concave face mold.

Every warp, bend, and curve is smoothed and cushioned; fitted to the line over every orifice of my visage. The hypnotic screens were embedded into the goggles of the mask paired with the inverted opened condom muzzled; howling for me to venture inside. I begin to slow my breath as I pull the open mask toward my line of sight. My heart is now beating in a hypnotic rhythm on par with the enlarging visuals, just as my muzzle passes through the glossy archways and the sides of my cheeks stroke against the flexible walls.

My ears find their way into the slots as the built-in earbuds are fastened into the canals, drowning out the quiet ambiance of my room and fading in a deep endless droning hum.

My hair slides into the respective mane sacks, crowning the entire headpiece with a supernatural combover and genie tail to signify her intimidating magic. The closing flips behind the back of my head join flawlessly together again, as the zipper closes to the end.

I felt the stimulating tug of the interior pull my face down as I did the same with the base of the mask, unfolding it down until it was at shoulder-blade level.

I take the triskelion collar from earlier and fasten it around my neck, closing the seams that separated the hood from the rest of the suit, while acting like the secondary support for my neck as the corset was to my waist. I push the condom hanging from the mask’s lips into my mouth as my tongue is met with the clean chemical taste of latex.

Finally, my head was fully nestled and sealed in the cushioned caverns of the mask. The polished chemical smell flows down my nose.

The smooth glossy material was hugging my cheeks and massaging my skull. The light squeaks and creaks pared with inhaling and exhaling complimented the trance I was in.

The spiraling tunnel had fully enveloped my field of vision, for I had temporarily left my reality behind and was currently descending deep into my consciousness. Her hypnotic whispers begin to chant, in the soft tone of my voice as it slowly shifted into a deep erotically mature tone.

“I… am Rubber… I… am Rubber…”
Underneath the condom muzzle I was tasing while blowing a kiss, the triskelion symbol on my collar begins to spin, spiraling rapidly for the next waves of bodily invasive pleasure that were about to hit.

Writing belong to and commission for @Zori-Vulpiviod