The Muse

The Muse

By Darqside

 

Perhaps it can be said that the pen is mightier than the sword, but the way I see it, the pen is also mightier than the man or woman.

 

It all started at the local arts and supply store I go to a few blocks down the street from where I live.

 

It was a rather unusual shop, full of things you wouldn’t normally find in an art store, fortune telling baubles, dice, board games, magic trick supplies, Halloween decorations, you name it, really…but the sign outside still insisted upon calling itself Art and Supply Depot.

 

I’m not what you’d call an orthodox writer; I’m very old fashioned in my sense of taste when it comes to writing.  So when it came time to purchase more paper and a new set of pens for writing I decided I would get a very traditional set of pens and even special ink just for my work. 

 

Now I know what you’re thinking, in the age of computers it makes no sense to write on paper.  Well at some point in my life I took calligraphy, so in some ways my writing is also a form of artwork to me.  Of course I do use the computer now and again.

 

That day was different however, it was special to me, mainly because I had just recently moved into a new apartment nearby and was itching to get started writing out my new story.  It would be a passionate love story about the most beautiful woman ever…or so I had in mind.  I just knew I had to write with a traditional ink pen.

 

When I walked into the store for the first time, I was amazed at all the unique things they had in the store, a bronze statue of a dragon, various glass sculpted brush holders, a life-like mannequin, and some of the most unique quality of paper I had ever seen…probably finer than rice paper or papyrus!  The owner and keeper of the shop was an elderly woman who seemed to have her eye on me the moment I walked in the door.

 

I took a few rolls of the very interesting paper and then walked up to the front counter for my purchase.

 

“Ah, I see you take a fancy to my enchanted paper.” She smiled gently.

 

“Yes, it’s very nice; I hope to use it to write an epic story!” I beamed.

 

“What would that story be about, young man?” she queried with somewhat of a sly look on her face, although she was very modest about it.

 

“It’s about this man who falls in love with the most beautiful woman completely by accident, and she becomes obsessed with him.  It basically is their life story.  I haven’t decided on the details yet.”

 

“Hmm,” she put a thoughtful finger to her chin, “perhaps it would be wise to pick the perfect pen for such a story, would it not?” She smiled.

 

“Well, yes, but I wouldn’t know where to begin, there are just so many fine ink pens in this shop.  I was kind of hoping you could help me.”

 

“Well if the story is about love…then I think I have the perfect pen for you, just a moment.”

 

She went into the back storeroom and hummed what sounded like an ancient Japanese Lullaby although I couldn’t make out the tune it sounded very beautiful.

 

“Ah!  Here it is!” she said at last.

 

When she came back to the counter, she produced a wooden box with a special golden hasp lock on it that slid open.

 

Opening up the box I found what appeared to be a metal pen shaft attached to a semi-long bamboo stalk.  The stalk was painted a deep crimson in color and the shaft was also very unique, as well as sharp for small point markings.

 

“This pen is called the ‘Fude no ai’ or Pen of Love.  It is a special pen that only true lovers can wield.  As you can see, the blade of the pen has a heart shape engraved upon its tip, so that the ink will always flow through the heart of the pen.”

 

“Wow, it’s very elegant.”

 

“I shall warn you however, this pen has been passed down through many generations of my family and many a maiden’s blood has flowed through its shaft.”

 

“Maiden’s blood?  Are you serious?” I was a little shocked actually.

 

“Legend has it that the bamboo shaft of this pen is stained in the virgin blood of the most beautiful of maidens and should they prick their finger upon the blade of the pen, they will fall eternally in love with the man who writes with it.  The blood flows through the shaft and onto the paper, making the heart of the man and woman bond forever, just as ink bonds to paper.”

 

“I…I’m somewhat curious as to why you would suggest I use this pen.” I have to admit, I am a little superstitious about such things.

 

“Because, you are a man who needs love in his life.  I have seen it.  This pen will make it happen.”

 

“Er…um…” I gulped.  I wasn’t about to stab the next pretty girl I walked past with it, that’s for sure.  “I…I’m sure it’ll inspire me.”

 

“Oh, most certainly!” she bowed as I gave her my money.  Strangely enough when I produced the money to purchase the pen, she refused.

 

“I told you, this pen is for you.  A good pen and a good writer need each other, just as a good man and a good woman need one another.  This pen chose you.”

 

“If you say so…” I sighed, gave my thanks and left.

 

I wasn’t too far from my house when I saw a young woman unloading a set of boxes next door to my apartment complex.  She seemed to be straining heavily against the large boxes, so I decided to stop and help.

 

“You could use some help moving in I take it?” I offered.

 

“Wow, you’re a real life saver.” She said looking up.

 

The woman was a bombshell in every classic sense of the word, a very busty redhead with long curls that came down along the base of her back and extremely curvaceous hips.  She was wearing a very light dress that didn’t seem appropriate for moving but most certainly accommodated the two large D-cup breasts she had.

 

I set my parcels down on the sidewalk nearby and began helping her with her boxes.  They weren’t all that heavy, but she didn’t seem to be the type of girl where heavy lifting was her specialty either.  Humorously I considered the idea that she did plenty of heavy lifting already just by walking, of course I never told her that.

 

When all her boxes were neatly placed in her house, she offered me a soda from the fridge.  I accepted and brought my parcel in her house.

 

“You really helped me out back there, and I really appreciate it.  I just moved in and I really don’t know anyone around here.”

 

“Well you do now.” I smiled, “My name is Rodger Hollings and I live next door.”

 

“Well Roger,” she said, in a mock-toast with her can of soda, “Here’s to you and your neighborly hospitality.”

 

“Cheers,” I said with a smirk.

 

“I suppose I should introduce myself,” she replied, “I’m Rachel Mooring.  Seeing as I just moved in, there isn’t much to tell about me, except that maybe I’m trying to find someone important I can live the rest of my life with someday.”

 

“I suppose in many ways I am also looking for that certain special someone.” I said somberly, “Another toast,” I said, “to Love and the possibilities it brings.”

 

“Here-here.” She toasted back, and then laughed.

 

“What’s so funny?” I asked with a smile.

 

“Just that I can’t believe on the first day I move in and some interesting guy is already in my life.  How’d that happen so fast?”

 

“I don’t know, how did it happen so fast?”

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not such a nymphomaniac that I’d do the first man I’ve seen after just moving in.”

 

“You most certainly have your dignity to consider.” I said with a smile.

 

“Most certainly,” she teased.

 

“Well, I know when I’ve worn out my welcome; I’ll leave you to unpacking your things then, neighbor.  I’ll see you later then.” With a wave I left, taking my parcel with me.

 

She was a very interesting woman, the kind of woman I felt somewhat attracted to, and very classy.  I liked that.

 

It was getting late, so I decided to set my package on the table and go to bed.

 

The next morning I woke with a start as the doorbell was ringing.  Running downstairs I ran to get the door.  Rachel was standing there, with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face.

 

“You forgot your pen.” She said, somewhat peeved, “You left it on my table before you left.”

 

“Oops.” I said abashedly, “I didn’t mean to forget it.  I guess I must have dropped it when carrying my paper rolls.”

 

“It’s okay, but wow that thing is sharp!” she showed me her index finger was bandaged.

 

“You cut yourself?” I asked.

 

“I was curious, that pen looks so elegant I had to check it out, it’s the real deal alright.  You must really love writing.”

 

“I really do.” I said, “And I really don’t know what I would’ve done without that pen, thanks a bunch.”

 

“No problem, we’re neighbors.” She smiled.  “Well, I have to go, got to finish settling in.”

 

It never occurred to me until after she left that she pricked her finger on the pen, just as the old woman had said might happen.

 

I shook my head in disbelief, “What is it gonna do, turn her into sleeping beauty?”

 

Well, I thought, I might as well try it out.

 

I took my new pen in its box and the large rolls of paper I had bought and brought them upstairs to my specially designed spool.  Taking the tube of the spool out, I put the first roll over the spool and tore a sheet of the fine quality paper out.

 

Taking my new pen out of its wooden case and a bottle of India ink I set them side by side on my desk nearby.  I decided before I was going to start writing I would first take a good look at my pen, to make sure everything was in good condition.

 

It was strange at first, as the underside of the pen seemed to have a large old clot of red ink underneath, it certainly smelled of ink.  Well the old woman did say it had been passed from generation to generation.  I just couldn’t believe that anyone in their right minds would write a story in blood for ink.

 

Dipping the edge of the pen into the Inkwell I began writing out my story. 

 

It started out simple: a young man at the prime of his life trying to make it in the big city.  But as he finally finds work at a local bar, he comes across the most beautiful woman.  She apparently serves as a waitress there while he’s on bartender shift.  He starts out simply admiring her looks as she’s quite attractive.  But then they begin to talk and grow to be very fond of one another.  Her name is Jessica and his is James and the two begin to fall madly in love.  But there’s just one problem.

 

“Oh darn it!” I wracked my brains out just thinking up the premise of the story, but I never thought of a plot device.  And now I had a severe case of writers block!

 

I decided to tear off a small sheet of paper from the roll and write out a list of plot devices I could use:

 

The man’s already married…nah over done.  The woman’s married…seen that too many times on soaps.  The guy’s gay?  Forget that.  The girl’s a nymphomaniac?  That might work.

 

“Lessee here…” I muttered, writing out a list of ‘nymphomaniac’ ideas.

 

BDSM… too broad and too cliché, needs to be more specific.  Into latex?  Maybe.  Likes hot weird sex and likes the whole slave/master thing?  That could work.  Breath play?  Nah, gasmasks hide a girl’s face, not something I want a reader to picture…bed bondage?  Too complex I think.  A girl so addicted to rubber she wants to become it?  Ooh that sounds hot…but it needs something…something…special.

 

I took a nearby Skin Two catalogue and paged through it.  I scanned through a number of tantalizing models with the most bizarre of fashions.  Of the many pictures I came across, none more appealed to me than the rubber ballerina girl and the latex gothic bride.  Next to the picture I read an article review of an online internet website called Gromet’s Plaza which featured several fiction stories of women and men in the most interesting situations of bondage and fetish clothing.  It made me curious, so I fired up the computer and entered the web address.  Sure enough the 18+ or older question came up and I happily clicked ENTER.

 

Now, I don’t normally look at other people’s writing for inspiration, but in the case of this fiction, I just had to.  It just seemed to titillating to pass up…emphasis on tit…heh.

 

My libido kicked into overdrive as I read the stories found on the website.  Numerous works, both sexually arousing and downright bizarre filled my eyes.  Of course, I wasn’t about to simply write your everyday porno fanfiction.  I was writing an epic here, and looking for inspiration.  I came across the story by an unknown author named Layered Text by the title of “Eternal Latex Virgin” that sparked a peculiarly sadistic spark in my imagination.

 

The story itself seemed like something out of Silence of the Lambs, but also appeared to be extremely provocative.  The title alone made me ponder the magnitude of such a situation for a beautiful woman to be bound in eternal latex virginity.  Of course, there was a problem with that.

 

I hate body piercing, just a pet peeve of mine really.  It detracts from the body as a work of art as far as I’m concerned.  This was, of course, the means through which the author of that inspiring story came up with the woman in question’s eternal virginity.  But I wasn’t about to do something like that.  I wanted something darker, perhaps more fantastic although not as sadistic.

 

An eternal latex virgin in every sense of the word, meaning her virginity would be based on latex and defined by it.  The very essence of the hymen being bound in her rubber sex member.

 

The ideas began to trickle at first, and then to flow.

 

The woman in my story, Jessica, had an obsessive adoration for all clothing made of rubber, PVC, and latex.  The very smell of the stuff would arouse her.  And James, well, he was a simple man with even simpler tastes.

 

As the ideas began to form in my mind, I felt a hint of fatigue as my mind began to wander from the events of the day.  I was getting tired and distracted.  So I decided I was going to go for a walk.

 

Placing my new ink pen in a special drying quill, I capped the bottle of ink, grabbed my house keys and took a stroll down to the park.

 

There was some daylight out left, and plenty of people were out going for strolls or shopping now, so I had plenty of time to go for a stroll and head back before dark.

 

The cool afternoon air was soothing and felt really nice on my back.  I stretched my legs a bit and was about to head back when I heard a familiar voice call behind me.

 

“Roger!  Fancy meeting you here!  How’s the writing coming along?”

 

“Oh, Rachel, it’s you…” I said, rather surprised to find her here.  She seemed taller somehow I’d noticed, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

 

“I just got back from a strange little store downtown, they sell the most peculiar outfits, and I just had to get a little something.”

 

“You bought something?  But you don’t look like you’re carrying anything besides your purse.” I commented.

 

“I’m wearing them; silly…you really need to be more observant of girls’ looks you know.”  She smiled.  She tilted her legs and pulled up her dress a bit to reveal the sexiest pair of heels I had ever seen.

 

“They’re ballet boot heels, for some reason I got them on discount and they fit me perfectly!” she had the brightest smile on her face, as though she adored the boots from the moment she saw them.

 

“Don’t they hurt?” I asked, knowing all too well that most women can barely walk in them, let alone stand on full weight with them on, let alone walk a few blocks in them, at least, not without extensive training, but near as I could tell, she had only just began wearing them today, and she walked in them naturally and gracefully.

 

“You would think they’d hurt, but the moment I put them on and stood up in them, it just felt natural, like my feet were designed specifically for these boots.  All the girls at the shop said I was crazy for wearing these things without some foot training, but they feel so comfortable to me, almost like I never want to take them off!”

 

To prove her point, she did a fake pirouette and kicked one of her legs high in the air.  Her dark skirt flared a bit as she did so, revealing the sexiest pair of red panties I’d ever glanced at.  The color was a deep red that matched her hair.

 

“So what do you think?” she giggled, “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much poise and confidence before in my life…and I feel sexy.” Her eyes looked into mine deeply.  It was such an incredible moment.

 

“Er…um…”

 

She laughed, “I can tell you’re speechless, Roger, it’s nice to know you like how I look…someone has to appreciate my hard effort at looking beautiful.”  With that she strolled in long pin-point strides toward her house, leaving me, dumbfounded.

 

She might as well have knocked me over with her radiance, as I was left standing there for a few minutes just wondering how I knew such an attractive young woman.  The ballet boot heels were especially sensually pleasing to me, that much I knew for certain.

 

Shaking my head of all the lecherous thoughts I kept having, I decided to head back to do some more writing.  Just this encounter alone might influence my epic love story a bit, or so I thought.

 

I came back to my desk, paper, and ink pen.  I grasped the red handle in inspired anticipation, all too eager to write, but noticed something.

 

Was it just me?  Or was the handle of the bamboo shaft of the pen a deeper shade of red?  I must’ve been seeing things.

 

Taking ink to pen and pen to paper I picked up where I left off.

 

James most certainly was a man of simple tastes, but he wasn’t about to inhibit himself on the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, despite her addictions and vices.  She was a woman of great passion, and her sexual desire deepened with every meeting she had with James, whether it be while working at the bar, or simply encountering him on the street.  Whenever her eyes met his, she had determined she would belong to him and only him, and become his love slave by any means necessary.

 

Of course, James was what you’d call a sensible man and had no knowledge of things involving sex bondage, fetishes, or the like.  He was simply a man who believed in love and its powerful grip.

 

One day in particular Jessica’s desire for him got the better of her, and she decided she could take it no longer.  Waiting quietly for him to leave the bar, she followed him home secretly stalking him.

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d followed him home, and on numerous occasions she’d learned that he secretly hid an extra key to his apartment underneath a panel in his mailbox just in case he got locked out.

 

Gently sneaking in, she quietly snuck into his bathroom and shut the door.  She had brought a duffel bag of all the things she planned to wear for her first ‘serious’ encounter with him.  Stuffing the cracks in the door so as not to let any light through and reveal herself to him while he slept, she turned on the light.

 

Taking off her waitress uniform, she then proceeded to put on the most luscious single-piece red rubber skirt on.  It fit so tight against her body and shined in the bathroom light.  It was tight around her breasts but had a thin layer of latex over the top that revealed the shape of her cleavage perfectly.  She then slipped on a special pair of red rubber ballet boot heels to match her dress as well as deep red opera gloves, both of which matched her deep maroon hair.

 

Taking out a two-piece rubber mask and then proceeding to twist her hair into a tight ponytail at the top, she squeezed the tail through the top of the lacing and tightened the rubber mask around her face.  To add to her appearance, she undid her long red hair’s tie so that it fell naturally along the contours of her head as though the mask were a part of her face.  She added a special latex lipstick compound to her lips so that they were shiny and rubbery in texture like the rest of her body now was.

 

To finish this ensemble off, she undid a special zipper at her crotch that opened up a special round hole just over her vulva.  The dress remained taught around the curves of her body while the opening gave just enough leeway for her to be seriously fucked.  At this point she didn’t care if she got pregnant, as this man was only for her and she was his sex toy, now and forever…he just didn’t know it yet.

 

James at the time was asleep, and while he slept, she quietly crept up into his bed, gently sliding underneath the covers and taking off his underwear.  It was all she could do not to go crazy with lust over his member.  He continued to sleep and she began to stroke and lick him.

 

It didn’t take much for James to be aroused, but he certainly was a deep sleeper.  She stroked him till he came in big gobs which she greedily drank down her sexy throat.  She felt herself about ready to cum but restrained herself…she would save that for her master…someday, when he was ready.

 

The next morning James awoke with a strange sensation.  He felt like he’d been fucked raw in his sleep!  But there were no signs of anyone in the room.  He threw back the covers to find--!

 

Nothing.  Not a trace of anyone besides himself in the room.  He checked his underwear, most definitely on and most definitely dry…so no wet dream to speak of.  Yet his penis felt like it had gone through a vacuum cleaner and looked a deeper pink as a result.  Despite the sensitive feelings he had, he actually felt pretty good, like his life was somehow fulfilled.

 

He strolled into the bathroom to find nothing unusual in particular.  It did smell of talcum powder in there though…he wasn’t sure but maybe the talcum fell in the night due to something.

 

No, that wasn’t it; the talcum was shut safely away in the bathroom cabinet.  So why did he have this distinct feeling someone was there and someone was watching him.  He decided to take his mind off it by brushing his teeth.

 

I decided it was time to take a break.  Any long story needs a break now and again, and now seemed like a good time to do so.  I walked over to the kitchen for a soda and poured myself a glass.  It felt cool down my throat as my thoughts began to reform for the next leg of my story.

 

Does she continue to secretly have her way with him?  Will he find out?  Will he reject her desire because of how she goes about doing this to him?  What about that Latex Virgin idea I was working with?  How would I put that in my story?  I just wasn’t sure.

 

I was jerked from my thoughts when I heard a loud thump outside my apartment in the hallway.  What was going on out there?  Were they Burglars? Maybe neighbors coming in late?

 

Walking up to my apartment doorway I peeped out through the peephole.  Nothing unusual seemed to be out in the hallway…just a dimly lit hall.  That is until a dark shape moved out of the corner of my vision through the peephole.

 

I could hear a series of thumps run down the hallway and fade down the steps.  Maybe it was a burglar, but something or someone must have spooked them, so I thought.  I didn’t dare go out to see who it might’ve been…mostly out of the idea that I just didn’t want to get involved or as I convinced myself, that it was just some homeless person looking for a place to sleep.  As a safety precaution I made sure the door was locked before I went to sleep.

 

The next morning I stretched and found I hadn’t slept that well in ages.  I felt rejuvenated somehow, as though some sort of miracle had happened in the night.  Going into the bathroom I took a look in the mirror to clean up.

 

“What the--?” I gasped in surprise and shock.

 

The wrinkles under my eyes were gone!  The rings that proved my lack of sleep in college also appeared to be disappearing.  My skin appeared younger and fuller in tone…I just couldn’t explain it.

 

My tongue was pink and my eyes were blue, and my hair was the same color it always was.  I was just…younger.  It was an incredible feeling really.  I felt like I should go for another long walk again, the fresh morning air seemed so inviting!

 

The park was definitely brighter to me than usual, fresher, and full of life, or was it just me?  I chuckled at the thought.

 

“We really have to stop meeting like this…” a familiar yet sexy laugh rang in my ears.

 

It was Rachel again, as bright and as chipper as ever.  Her hips were curvaceous and more pronounced than ever, and due to the ballet boots her breasts jutted forward in the most perfect slope.  But even more than that, she was wearing something different from yesterday.

 

Instead of the very reserved black nylon skirt she wore yesterday, she was now sporting a tight black rubber hobble skirt with mermaid skirt flairs about the sides, her black ballet heels accommodating her rolling hips nicely.  Her long red hair swept down towards the lower portions of her back while her midsection was encased in a deep crimson corset.  This was complimented by black opera gloves with red gloved hands.  The dress itself lipped tightly up to her neck in a single piece of non-existent seams of latex.

 

Once again I was smitten by her beauty and lustful eyes.

 

“I…I…” I couldn’t say anything…anything at all.

 

“You want me don’t you…” she said, her red voluptuous lips invading my mind.

 

“Well…that is…” I fumbled…she was just too hot for my voice to describe.

 

“It just so happens I want you, Roger Hollings.” She said in a deep sexy voice.  Taking me by the hand she whispered in my ear.

 

“Let’s go to my place.”

 

My eyes went wide in shock to hear her say this…it just didn’t seem like her.  It was uncanny…and the idea she seemed to know exactly what I wanted?  Inconceivable!

 

We walked back to the apartments she and I lived in, me mesmerized by her rolling hips all the while.  She glanced back in my direction while tossing her deep red hair to the side in sexy fashion.

 

“You like the way I look?” she asked me.

 

“I do!  I do!” I just couldn’t help myself…I may as well have been drooling at that point, but I just didn’t care.

 

She opened up the door and strode in her ballet point heels through her apartment.  I followed somewhat timidly but at the same time equally horny and eager.

 

“Ever since I met you when I moved in, I’ve had this feeling that you and I would be together…but I never though I would become this…” she said as she moaned in her rubber dress.  She stroked her body up and down with her fingers, feeling every sensual shape and taking them into herself like some kind of hungry animal.

 

“Everything seems to make sense when I’m around you…like you’re killing me softly with some kind of poetry or song.  And my body is becoming more than I can handle…like I’m going to overflow.”  From the looks of things she was about to have an orgasm.

 

“I…I want you too, Rachel…” I gulped, this didn’t seem like something I was prepared for…and most definitely something I hadn’t expected.

 

She took a gloved hand to my face and stroked it sensually.

 

“Sex me, Roger.” She said with fierce abandon.

 

Before I knew it we were in her bedroom…but the bed sheets were made of rubber!  It was a strange sensation really.

 

She leaned back in that tight hobble dress of hers and began to slowly stretch her legs apart.  They stretched and stretched ever so slowly.  The Dress seemed to be incredibly flexible at this point as it opened wide while still keeping her legs in a sharp 90 degree angle.  By now I was able to get a good look at her.

 

The ballet boots were something I had never seen before…they were fully attached to the rubber fabric that ran up her legs and past her crotch under the dress, almost like the legs were molded to the boots and her own body.

 

At the center of her crotch was a single zipper…she kissed her fingers and grasped the zipper’s hasp and slowly unzipped her crotch.

 

The crotch area seemed to be wrapped so tight around her vulva that the pressure of the rubber of her split legs seemed to be pulling the vagina’s lips apart as she unzipped it.  By the time it was fully unzipped, the vulva’s lips spread wide and virtually popped out of the hole it was inside previously.

 

“Oh god…fuck me, Roger!” she begged.

 

A realization hit me…she wanted me to have open unprotected sex with her…something was wrong.

 

“No rubber?” I asked.

 

“Unh….no…just do it…before I go mad.  I want to become rubber…for you, Roger…” her voice was more pleading than ever.

 

Maybe a part of me was still a coward, but I didn’t want to take any chances…I undressed and placed my cock inside of her as she writhed in happiness…sweat dripping in rivulets across her forehead.  I managed to pull myself out in time for the big cum…but before I could release elsewhere, she greedily bit hard around my scrotum.

 

“Huh?” I jumped…a little nervous that she’d clamped on me so easily.  She quickly and languidly sucked my penis dry of all cum it had released, as though she didn’t want to spill a single drop of that precious fluid.

 

“I told you…” she said between heavy breaths, “I want to become your rubber, Roger…I’ll be your condom from now on…your condom slut.”  It was then I noticed something I hadn’t realized before…

 

Her lips and inside of her mouth seemed to be coated with a red rubber substance; even her tongue had an abnormal sheen to it.  I watched as her lips began to stretch and wrap tightly over my cock like a sheath of their own accord…swallowing my testicles whole.

 

Her eyes glared like fire into mine as she greedily sucked at my genitals…stroking and licking them with her rubber tongue.  I could feel saliva coating over them, but it felt like warm liquid latex was being drenched over them.

 

In fear and shock I pulled myself out from her lips with a wet pop.  She looked at me pleadingly wanting more of me inside of her.  She started to beg for more.

 

“Please Roger…you have to let me take you inside me…I won’t be complete otherwise.”

 

It was then I noticed that her teeth and jaw line were beginning to fade and stretch.  I watched in horror as her teeth and gums dissolved into big rubber lips…her rubber tongue disappeared into the crevice of her mouth which formed a long shaft rubber tube as her lips formed an O.

 

Her mouth closed for a moment, just like her regular lips…but reopened even further, begging to capture me in her maw.  She reached out to me with a rubber hand at which I withdrew.

 

She then sat down on the bed, downcast, with sad green eyes that wanted to cry but could not…for they had hardened into a painted rubber form.

 

Surprisingly she was able to speak through that large tube of a mouth of hers.

 

“Why are you doing this?  You wanted me to be like this, didn’t you?”

 

“I…I don’t know what I want!” I yelled.

 

I ran as fast as I could back to my house…back to where things made sense.

 

I stood in my room, suddenly transfixed by something I hadn’t expected to see.  The red bamboo pen I had been given for my writing was glowing!  It was glowing a deep red crimson and appeared to be pulsing with life!  My eyes fixated on the mysterious pen as it pulsed its strange light.  It was then I noticed the writing I had written on paper was also glowing.  It bore a strange crimson hew…like some sort of life energy had been imbued inside of it.

 

My memories of the day I had purchased the pen ‘Fude no ai’ all came flooding back to me.  The legend…the story of maidens whose blood was bound to the stroke of the pen…it had all come to life.  The woman known as Rachel Mooring had now become the subject of my writing, as her blood was now bound to the strokes of my pen.

 

My mind was bombarded with thoughts that boiled to the surface or broiled to nothing.  I simply sat and watched the pen pulse with its ever brilliant life as the letters written in Rachel’s blood beat a slow heartbeat.

 

A knock came to my door.  I was afraid to answer it…but did so anyway.

 

It was Rachel…but she did not look at me.  Her rubber painted eyes were downcast and her O shaped lips were pursed shut with sadness.

 

“Please…” she asked me, “Please let me be your rubber slut.”

 

My face must’ve been red with anger because her face somewhat shuddered as I glanced upwards at her.

 

I took her hand ever so gently and led her to my room.

 

“This is your life.” I said, sadly.

 

I proceeded to tell her of the legend I’d heard so much about, and how she had incidentally pricked her finger on the enchanted pen and thus began to become something beyond reality…beyond reason.

 

Rachel took the facts well, considering her situation.  At first she appeared to be sad, but then in a brief moment she was bright and happy once again.

 

“I don’t understand…?” I asked.

 

“I never thought my life would be like this, but I seem to have become your muse.  To become anything you write about…make it real…and make it inspire you to do even greater things.”

 

“You really are amazing, Rachel…” I marveled.

 

“You really think so?” she said, with a satisfied smile on her face.

 

“I was afraid at first…I was afraid something was happening that I had no control over…that I might lose you because you were changing.  It’s why I ran away…I didn’t know what was going on.”

 

She gently walked up to the pen and paper, read the text I had written, all the ideas I had written down on the side, and then proceeded to write her own entry.

 

Jessica was heartbroken that she wasn’t able to confess her love to James the way she planned.  She had secretly sucked him off, but that was about all she had managed to get away with.  It was her great wish to always be with him, despite his fears and despite any insecurities he might have.

 

She decided she was going to confess her love to him that very afternoon.  Normally he would be working behind the bar, but that day he seemed to have taken the day off.  This might have thrown a wrench in any other woman’s plans, but not Jessica.  She knew exactly where he would be as he had a habit of hanging out in the same spots whenever he was lonely or whenever he felt he needed some down time.

 

Jessica finally encountered James on a nearby park bench, who, despite being what appeared to be a poor excuse for sexual arousal, had been sulking.

 

Jessica decided she was going to meet up with him in her Waitress Uniform…but she threw in something special…something he would have to discover for himself.

 

“Jessica?” James finally looked up and saw her glancing at him inquisitively.  “Why are you here?”

 

“I came to tell you I’m sorry.” She said, “I’m sorry I never told you how I feel and who I really am…and because of that I’m going to tell you now.”

 

“You mean…?” he glanced up at her.

 

“First and foremost I love you, James, you’ve been my inspiration and guidance for as long as I’ve known you.  Second, I love rubber just as much as you…and even if it’s not something you’re into very much, I still want to be with you.  I just wish I could be your rubber girl.”

 

She kicked up her heels a bit to reveal her ballet boots that she strolled in so naturally.  Her hips rolled close to his face and she tenderly kissed while making her deepest wish.

 

Just as she had made her wish, a shooting star passed overhead, confirming it.  And as the two gazed at one another in love and contentment, Jessica’s body began to glow a deep red.

 

“What’s going on?” James yelped in bewilderment.

 

“I’m becoming…rubber!” Jessica moaned as a powerful wave of lust washed over her.

 

In a flash her entire body underneath the waitress uniform was encased in a ruby red rubber skin.  Her breasts were pert and solid and her hips were as wide and shiny as ever.  Her lips were a deep crimson that matched her rubber face perfectly.  Her long hair was also a deep stretchy rubber texture…making her extremely beautiful.

 

In a moment of quick thinking, she stripped herself of her waitress uniform to find that her body was now a thick stretchy rubber, even her nibbles had a bounciness to them.  The tall ballet heel boots had fused with her feet and now her toes glowed a deep shiny red in the sunset.  Her pussy was now open wide and fused in a free O shape so that she no longer had to worry about opening up the lips just to get sexed.  Her rubber skin felt so sensitive to the touch she felt her breasts were about to explode.

 

As she continued to feel herself her body stiffened somewhat, as though it was now becoming firm and toned, not to mention even more sensitive.  Her fingers felt as sensitive as the tips of her breasts had been…even the toes in her heels, it felt like an orgasm every time she took a step.

 

James was now supremely surprised by this change that had transformed her…a miracle by some means he thought.  But no explanation was needed…he was, after all, a simple man with simple tastes…and he knew she would taste good.

 

On a whim, James grabbed Jessica’s rubber hand and led her through the park back to the bar.  She was of course completely naked, but her red rubber skin and heels accommodated her perfectly.  She was now an exhibitionist, and she adored it!

 

When Jessica entered the room, covered in latex, she got quite a large amount of stares, but these turned to cheers as she took a pool stick nearby and stood on top of the bar and began to bend and flex herself around the stick wildly as money was thrown her way.

 

By the end of the night, she had at least 5000 dollars, and in a kind gesture, gave the owner at least 2000 of the cut.  The owner was both dumbfounded and sexually excited by her performance, not to mention eagerly staring at the money.

 

“You two go home, you deserve the rest of the night off.” The owner smiled to Jessica and James.

 

Before leaving, James was pulled aside by the bar owner, “You keep her and never let her go, understand.” He smiled.

 

“Yes sir!” James beamed.

 

That night they experience the grandest sex they had ever experienced, and, strange as it may sound, each and every time James entered into Jessica, a wet popping sound could be heard.

 

He looked inside her vulva to find that the hymen…a ruby red rubber was quickly reforming itself every time he penetrated her being.  She was becoming a virgin!  Just this excitement alone was beyond his reckoning to handle.  He would pound her with his hips and then wait with baited breath as the red tissue reformed itself.

 

That night they began to play games to see what things they could do with this new discovery.  James on a whim decided to stick his hand inside her reforming hymen.  He could feel the rubber skin tighten and wrap itself tight around his wrist.  He waited for a few moments for the tissue to settle and proceeded to push and pull with his wrist, stretching the hymen enough so as not to break it, but enough so that Jessica could feel every push and pull from it.

 

She was rocked with an orgasm as the substance inside her stretched and pulled like rubber taffy.  She confessed to him she loved this sensation and begged him to try and stretch her hymen as much as possible.  It caused no pain apparently, and so he was able pull the hymen out of her vulva as far as 2 inches.  He rolled his hand as it stretched and twisted the rubber flesh around it, and then in a moment of lust and satisfaction, pulled the hymen out with a wet pop with his wrist, effectively penetrating her from the inside-out.

 

She screamed with delight as he continued to toy with her stretchable insides.  At one point he only let the hymen grow around his ten fingers and let them wriggle and squirm in tingly bits around her ever growing flesh.

 

She had now become his eternal latex virgin, and she was also his rubber slut, now and forever.  She felt both trapped and released now…as she was now with the man she loved.

 

But of course, their story was only just beginning.

 

By the time Rachel put the enchanted pen down; the transformation to her body was complete.

 

She had in fact become exactly like the woman in the story, replete with regenerating hymen.  She squealed with delight as she played with her body just as if it was a sex toy.

 

“Are you satisfied with how your life has become?” I asked, somewhat reserved and somber.  I wanted to play with her just as much as she did, but I wanted to also know if what we were doing was right.

 

“You miss the point entirely,” she smiled, and with a wet pop penetrated her innards.  “I’m your muse now…I can become anything you want me to be…just write it down and I’ll become your everything now!”

 

“If you’re my muse…” I said to her, “Then you’re going to have to be something special to me!”

 

“Oh really?” Rachel grinned, her wet pussy growing wetter by the second.

 

I ran with gusto over to the glowing red pen and began scribbling something at the end of that story.

 

James was now extremely happy with Jessica, but his dream was still out there, and their wishes still needed to come true, even though most of them had come true.  They still had a big life ahead of them.

 

Glancing out in the night sky, James made a wish of his own.

 

“I wish Jessica was my Muse and my Angel, to fly with me wherever the wind and sky take us!”

 

Incidentally yet another shooting star came by the confirm it, and soon enough Jessica had a pair of crimson rubber wings with which to fly with…and fly they did, across the night sky of the city, across the bright lights and brilliant evening moon…off to their dreams and inspirations.

 

“Well…it’s not quite a love epic…” I muttered.

 

Rachel replied with red wings wide open in the night air, “The story doesn’t have to be an epic for the love to be of epic proportions…let’s go Lover!”

 

I don’t recall ever being any happier than with my muse.  And she’s always here to inspire me.  She can be anything I want her to be and all I have to do is write it down.  She is the things I create, and she becomes a part of what I write…as well as a part of me.

 

Maybe someday you’ll find your muse and be happy…just as I did.

 

The End?