It started out one of those wonderful winter mornings: dark and overcast long after the sun should have risen, no reason for getting out of bed early after a long night's work, and nothing in particular planned for the day or even the immediate future. Just a warm cup of cocoa in my hands and a peaceful blanket of snow forming outside my den.

As my gaze drifted across the snow closer and closer to my door, I suddenly caught sight of a large, rectangular object sitting on the steps. I hadn't seen it at first because the top was covered, but the sides were still clear enough to make out the words 'Agent', 'Fragile', and 'This End Up' stenciled on them. Atop the large box appeared to be a smaller one, the very top of a red bow nearly concealed in white powder.

Setting my cocoa aside, I opened my door and stepped out, my glossy black feet sinking up to my ankles. As a cold wind stung my cheeks, I was again grateful the rest of my body was immune to the cold. Attempting to lift the large box, I discovered it to be a crate of black, injection-molded plastic. To my surprise, it felt very light - as if empty...which, while perplexing, was fortunate because it was longer than I am tall and would be impossible for me to lift without help. Pacing around it, I also noticed that small luggage wheels were built into the bottom of the long end. Armed with this information, I brushed the snow off the smaller package and brought it in first, setting it on my small coffee table before going back to lever the crate and drag/roll it inside.

I must admit that I tried to open the crate first, but soon after discovering a set of lid hinges on the same end as the luggage wheels, I found a steel keyhole on the opposite end. Accepting that as a dead end, I returned to the small parcel and slid the bow off. Upon lifting the lid, I received an incredible shock!

It was latex: a big, sweet-smelling, slippery, polished, quicksilvery puddle of carefully folded black latex! Half-pouring the contents of the package onto the table, I noticed that it wasn't solid black; parts of it were solid white. There were also several zippers. Sifting through it, I found what looked to be the shoulders and lifted it up, shaking out the folds until a beautiful full catsuit dangled in front of me. 

The craftsmanship was something to behold; I couldn't locate a single seam. Not only were there attached latex socks and gloves, but also integrated waist and neck corsets...and a tailsack as well! The loosely-hanging, thin-walled latex of the tailsack was a source of the white latex, but not the only one. Hanging from the attached hood was another white sack molded into...

No, it couldn't be.

It was! It was molded into the shape of my mane, right down to the bangs that framed my face. Only now did I begin to recall what this was all about - an order I had placed some time ago based on a similar suit I'd seen a feline wearing. But, the level of detail in this...I hadn't been measured or even posed for such a thing. Had I?

I didn't dwell on it much longer as I laid the outspread garment on the table and busied myself with tracking down all the various zippers. I saw the ones over each nipple first, followed by the one running up along the crotch. When I spotted the one situated below the tail and running deep into the cleft between the suit's cheeks, I couldn't help but shiver. Last, but not least, I examined the one that ran across the lips of the hood's muzzle. Lifting the hood up, I traced my gloved finger over the eyes - they were covered by translucent latex membranes. Once inside, I'd be completely contained.

I wanted to be in it. Badly.

As I turned the suit over to access the rear entry zipper, I noticed there were a few more items still left in the package, a pair of elbow-length black gloves and a pair of high-heeled knee-high boots - all crafted from the same luxurious black latex. Any concerns I had about waiting until I found out where this marvelous gift came from were now considered as an annoying and overcautious distraction from being in the suit.

Pinching the latex between my fingers, I judged the gauge to be about 2.5mm, but stretchier than I'd expected from ordinary latex. That should have set off a warning bell, but I dismissed it as one of the many superlatives already apparent in its manufacture. Grasping the edges of the entry slit and slipping my foot into the leg, I was rewarded with both a snug grip and the smooth slip of latex against magilatex. Air whispered past as I pointed my toes into the socks, a firm suction pulling everything into place. I squeezed my eyes shut and hissed, a tinge of pain as I bit my lower lip against the familiar pleasure.

As soon as I regained my composure, I plunged my other foot into the suit. It settled as easily as its twin, a perfect fit without so much as a wrinkle. Getting my tail into the suit's sack was going to be a challenge until I summoned my magilatex to sheath my tail first. After that, it was a simple matter of threading my own tailsack into the other one. I lifted the torso of the suit higher, teasing myself as I stretched it upward, pulling the crotch flush against my own. I stood there for a long moment, doing nothing but quietly rocking and wiggling my hips against the clinging, squeaking material. I might have continued on like that for an hour, but the promise of total enclosure eventually spurred me to carry on. Slowly, sensually, I fed myself to the gleaming black creature, sliding my arms into the sleeves and working my hands into the gloves at the ends.

The suit cupped my small breasts perfectly, the latex stretching just enough to support but not enough to crush. The corset helped in this respect as well - and likely would even more once I was able to close and hook the back. All that remained now was the hood dangling against my chest. Adapting the lesson learned from fitting my tail, I willed the latex that already permanently lined and sealed my body to flow up my throat and along the back and sides of my head, the black tendrils assimilating and weaving up my mane of shoulder-length white hair into a bundle that I could more easily place  within the molded pockets of the hood. My face, I left free.

Tilting my muzzle downward, I took a deep breath to calm myself. I could just barely hear the strong winds blowing past the door of my den and the snow pelting against the window. I could just barely detect the scent of my forgotten cocoa and my breakfast of eggs and toast. I could just barely feel the throb of my heart...protected beneath two layers of rubber.

In one swift movement, I thrust my muzzle into the cold embrace of the hood, the latex stretching and squeezing along my tapered snout. I then tilted my head to one side and then the other, my fingers groping about to guide my sealed ears into the molded earsheaths. My bangs and braid easily found their places within the molded hair and I dismissed my hold on them, allowing my mane to hang freely inside.

Rubbing the latex covering my eyes and cheeks, I moaned loudly into my closed muzzle; I felt the vibration as much as I heard the sound. Turning back to the box, I sat down and picked up the pair of boots. I'd expected to see a zipper running down the back of each, but found none. With a small 'mmphf', I picked the left one and began rolling down the sides until I reached the ankle. From this perspective, I was able to see that the insides were lined with some sort of gel cushions for comfort.

I gingerly slipped my foot into the boot, and though it was tight, once I had finished rolling the sides back up to my knee I was forced to conclude that they were only just tight enough to be stable. 

Soon, with my right foot likewise encased, I reached for the last items in the box...or so I thought. As I removed the gloves, I spotted a folded piece of paper resting on the bottom.

'Good' I thought, 'perhaps that will have the answer for why this suit fits so perfectly.'

Using the same rolling and pulling techniques as before, the gloves went on easily. I also noticed that both the outer gloves and the gloves of the suit were substantially thinner than the suit itself, allowing me to retain most of the dexterity in my fingers. With a satisfied snap of each cuff, I picked up the note from the box and opened it.

That's when I felt it. 

Without warning, there was a sensation of tightness crawling up my spine as the back of the suit zipped itself shut, stretching edges together and pulling the suit skintight against my trunk. Had it not been for the corset hooking itself and drawing closed, I would have doubled over from the pleasure. The suit wasn't only sealing shut, but somehow sucking tight from the tips of my ears to my toes - as if it'd been connected to an industrial vacuum. I could feel the latex pull into my palms and between my fingers and toes. I could even feel the zipper beneath my tail receding from view as it pressed against a very warm place. Only my hair and tail seemed unaffected. The onslaught subsided after nearly a minute, punctuated by six loud (and one distant), metallic clicks.

With a sinking sensation in the pit of my tummy, I reached up with a still-trembling hand and tugged at the zipper sealing my muzzle. It wouldn't budge. I tested the rest one by one: none of them would either.

Now on hands and knees, I gave up another long, keening moan. With my head facing down due to my neck corset and by virtue of my position, I could clearly see the open note which I'd dropped to the floor during my flood of ecstasy.


Dear Vikki,

By now, I hope you're enjoying the fruits of my labor. As you no doubt realize, this suit was custom made in every sense of the phrase. No cost was spared in both delivering a product that demonstrates the finest my establishment has to offer potential clientele, and doing it in the most effective manner possible with a single model in mind. 

Given this tremendous expense, I'm afraid that I must decline your credit. Not necessarily for lack of funds, but because I have another offer in mind. I want you to be a living advertisement. If you will agree to remain in the outfit 24/7 and appear in an assortment of private and public venues I assign you over the course of, say, a month - you may keep the outfit itself as payment.

If you decline this offer, please remain where you are for the next half-hour. The radio-operated locks will disengage and you will be able to remove the suit. Place it and the transporter back on the steps in front of your door. Keep the boots and gloves as a gift.

If, however, you have been enticed to accept my proposal, please open and climb into the transporter - the large black container - adjust the straps as you like, don the gas-mask inside, and lay down. 

In either case, I thank you for the interest you've shown in my designs and hope you will remain a part of our family of patrons for a long time to come.

-- Agent


I read the message three times before sitting back on my knees. Was I being abducted? Well, no. I mean, I was currently...at least I was pretty sure I was, but if I waited half an hour, I'd be freed. But in a sense, the suit that confined me was also the ransom.

I used my nearby couch to stand, and with delicate movements, I toe-stepped across the room to the mirror by the entryway. My hips and tail swayed in counterpoint with a soft rustle of latex brushing against latex. Every step was difficult, as it caused the suit to stretch and squeeze, fondle and grope every special place at once. At the mirror, I surveyed the rubbercoated vixen toy before me and considered the offer.

With fifteen minutes to go, I picked up my cup of cocoa, washed it out, and placed it back in the cupboard. Lifting the unlocked lid of the crate I now thought of as my transporter, I swung my legs over the side and settled myself into the shape exactly molded into the spongy, rubberfoam lining. Strapping the gasmask over my hooded head, I laid back and stared at the ceiling and the rubbervixen-shaped impression molded into the foam on the inside of the lid looming over me. As I began to feel sleepy, I allowed myself a final full-body squirm and the thought of how much I love overcast winter mornings.