Amin and the HARLOT-DOLL Skinsuit (4) (Patreon)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Everything that appears here, in this story, only exists in my mind, anything that resembles reality is coincidence or fortuitous. . .

( hopefully there will be many of these 💓, or not, who knows 😭 )

AMIN AND THE HARLOT-DOLL SKIN-SUIT

Part 4

Several orgasms later, Patrice walked back, with unsteady steps, to where Maria had set up her work table. It was time to continue, to become even more corrupted. She no longer cared about the plan that had led her to become who she was now. She wanted more and for that, she needed what was inside the box.

The first thing she picked up was one of the three wigs there, and to her surprise, she discovered another box containing yet another skinsuit, a different model, among the wigs.

“What? Another skinsuit?” she said to herself in disbelief. “ ‘Gold Digger Whore Doll’… Hmm, it seems being a whore wasn’t enough for Maria… What kind of selfish degenerate have I been living with?”

Patrice, after looking at the box in surprise, dropped it with feigned indifference and focused again on the wigs, choosing to put on the red one. It quickly adhered to her scalp, and as she decided what to put on next, she began to feel heat on the top of her head and a strange, stinging tingling sensation.

Instinctively, she brought her hands to the wig, thinking the skinsuit was rejecting it, but she discovered that the wig had become the hair of the skinsuit.

“Mmmm, this color is perfect… Looks like I’m one of the 'Dangerous Girls' now,” she said to herself with a giggle, tugging at her new hair and noticing that she could no longer pull it away from the suit, in fact, it felt as if it were really her own hair. “Now let’s get back to the clothes.”

She turned her attention back to the contents of the box, and after setting the other wigs aside, she found something that caught her eye.

“Mmmm, Crotchless Lascivia Pantyhose,” she said, opening the package of stockings, which, judging by the smell, had clearly been worn, and then she paused to look at another package of garter stockings. “Or … some garter stockings? A sex goddess like me shouldn’t waste time on these trivial and expensive decisions.”

Patrice then put on the dirty stockings and discovered a sensation that delighted her. Feeling that fabric against her new skin was a delight. Not only did she feel it hugging and shaping her legs from her toes to her waist, but she loved feeling them with every movement.

And so she quickly pulled the crotchless pantyhose over her stockings. And the strange, wave-like sheen on the surface of the second layer seemed hypnotic to her, not to mention that they seemed to shine so much brighter that way.

“Oh fuck!” Patrice said to herself. “Where have you been my whole life?”

It wasn’t a particularly comfortable feeling. Her toes felt too tight. It didn’t feel right around her ankle either; behind her knee the folds were uncomfortable. But at the same time, feeling one layer of fabric moving over another made her forget all that and become addicted to the tights.

Now Patrice understood why so many women wore this kind of clothing. It wasn’t just to attract men’s attention. It was so much more than that. Those two simple, sheer pieces of fabric made her feel even more feminine, sexy, powerful, and alluring.

And she wanted more. She she wanted to feel not just more feminine, but to actually be it. More so than any femme fatale. And so she looked around to see what else she could wear, and then she saw them.

They were red leather gladiator sandals with a platform and sky-high stiletto heels. And she didn’t understand why they were now only worn for special occasions. When she saw them she wanted to wear them as often as possible.

“Oh my God, they’re wonderful,” she said to herself after fastening the buckles, leaving half her leg trapped inside the straps of the sandals. “Just look how long and sexy my legs look now.”

Her face lit up like a girl who was about to try on the shoes and dress of her dreams for her first prom. Knowing she’d be the center of all the attention, envy, and criticism. “And now the slutty dress.”

It must be said that the dress was originally the same size as the skinsuit. But just like the skinsuit, it conformed to her figure, hugging her body tightly and easily tracing every curve. Its tight fabric and skimpy skirt struggled to contain her voluptuous behind.

The straps crossing over her chest seemed to make her breasts sway and bounce with every movement. The sheer fabric covering them did little to hide anything.

Furthermore, that dress had one final surprise in store for Patrice and all the unsuspecting women who wore it. That dress aroused her and would keep her aroused indefinitely. While wearing it, her body would never know calm. And if they wore it too much, it would become permanent.

“I definitely can’t let Maria keep this,” she said to herself maliciously. “She’s a loser! And it looks better on me… Gods… just look at this body, just looking at myself makes me so wet.”

to be continued...