A collaborative effort by CrypticCollaborator and delta7447
To whoever finds this letter:
I’m sure you’ve heard about the damage to Area 12, the dozens injured, and the shocking footage that somehow made its way onto the internet. My name is Katie Carmichael and I was the FBI agent in charge of the Super Latex project. Here is the true story of what happened.
The story begins with the recent surge in latex clothing. It seems like latex is the only thing in style these days--the naughtier, the better. It was no secret that the so-called ‘Goddess’ had a massive latex fetish. It just made sense for the fashion industry to pander to a woman with infinite money and who could disintegrate you with a thought.
Alongside this surge in latex fashion, rumors have been swirling in the intelligence community about latex clothing that gives people superpowers. I had dismissed the stories as merely rumors propagated by simple fetish-charged fantasies. I had thought that would be the extent of it, until a source came to me personally to confirm that it was true. Her name is Helena Pfieffer. She and I had a bit of a fling eight years ago. Back then, she was a struggling actress who did modeling on the side to make ends meet. When she contacted me a couple months ago, she looked more like a boundlessly confident Miss Universe contestant than the funny, reserved girl I had known for years now.
We sat down at a coffee shop, and she told me one incredible story after another. She said that someone representing The Goddess recruited her to her harem while she was modeling for a fetish company. She said that just being around The Goddess made her smarter, healthier, and prettier. What was most intriguing was that, according to her, The Goddess gives people special latex clothing when they impress her, and that these clothes give their wearer superpowers. I didn’t believe her until she showed me the gloves.
It’s very strange--a picture doesn’t capture what it’s like to be in the presence of these things. I have seen plenty of latex clothing, but these are on a whole different level. The first thing you must understand is the shine. Normal latex clothing gets scratches and needs to be shined often if you want it to look good, but no matter what we do to these gloves they always have the same impossible shine. And the smell... oh, god damn. Every person clad in Super Latex has a smell to them that makes you immediately think of sex. Imagine the sexiest smell you can think of. For me, it’s the smell of my ex-boyfriend’s cologne. Now multiply the power of that by a hundred or a thousand. You might be in the ballpark of just how powerful the scent of this latex is. I swear, I don’t even have a latex fetish and I get horny just thinking about it.
When I touched the perfectly smooth surface, it was... exhilarating. I felt a shiver go through me, and every part of me just ached to be taken. I had to take a moment to collect myself. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to wear them. I was sure that I would be overwhelmed.
Super Latex makes no sense whatsoever. To start with, Super Latex seems to be completely indestructible. I saw them dip those gloves into a vat of molten steel, and they came out barely warm to the touch. Still smelled amazing, even.
We recruited Helena as an informant. Over the next couple months, she told us everything about the Super Latex clothing that has been spreading throughout the nation.
The Goddess seemed to feel an immediate attraction to Helena when she became aware of her during the photo shoot, as she enjoyed special treatment basically from the start--most notably the gifts The Goddess gave her.
For starters, a latex bra and panties. Helena said that the bra made her invulnerable, and the panties made her immortal. The Goddess seemed desperate to keep Helena safe and sound indefinitely.
So Helena wasn’t in danger. Well, I had no way of knowing if her underwear really made it impossible for her to die or be hurt, but she seemed quite confident about it. At the time, I was still slightly skeptical that Super Latex actually granted its wearer superpowers. What I had felt before could’ve easily been the result of some weird pheromone-based drug, for all I knew.
It was only a matter of time until I became certain that Super Latex was no drug-induced illusion. I assure you, Super Latex is very real.
As we were crossing the street on the way to a cafe, a semi truck sped past and slammed into Helena. The resulting noise was enormous, like it had rammed into a building. The truck had completely stopped, with a Helena-shaped dent in front. Helena calmly stepped out of the hole and back to my side. The truck driver, no doubt in a panic from what just happened, floored it and sped away.
Helena just giggled, but I was immediately horrified.
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“Yeah! Remember, the bra and panties? Nothing can hurt me, and I’ll never die!”
She may have seemed fine, but I immediately imagined that goddess of hers may have given her some drug or something to numb her ability to feel pain, or shown her an illusion of invulnerability. The kind of damage a person receives from being hit by a truck doesn’t go away in the span of a day, after all.
Operating on instinct, I took her by the wrist and headed into the cafe’s restroom, stepping into the first open stall I saw and locked the door behind us.
“Look, I don’t want to be weird about this,” I said, “but I’d like to inspect your body. Make sure you’re really fine.”
Helena didn’t think much of it. She disrobed right then and there without even the slightest objection--a little surprising, seeing as she used to be a little shy about that sort of thing back when we were younger.
It didn’t take long for her to reveal the aforementioned latex bra and panties. Sure enough, there was no bruising anywhere on her body. All her bones were intact. In fact, she was noticeably more muscular than she looked.
I was baffled, but Helena spoke up before I could say anything.
“This is what it’s like to be in the care of a goddess!” she chirped.
I was at a loss for words. Eventually I managed to utter, “Did... did you even feel that truck hit you?”
“I felt it, yeah. It just didn’t hurt. I told you, I’m invulnerable with this bra on!”
I stood there, before my latex underwear-clad friend in a bathroom stall for what felt like hours, just processing this revelation. Helena shrugged and put her clothes back on. She unlocked the stall door and was about to head back to our table when she paused to turn around to me.
“You coming, or are you just gonna keep staring into space like that?” She giggled.
I caught myself and followed her.
For the rest of the day, I could barely concentrate on my work. The feeling of those Super Latex gloves floated to my mind again and again. I finished my report at 3:00 and got on the first train back home. That night, I masturbated furiously for hours. It was like I was back in college; a young woman with a rampant sex drive and no one to satisfy me, so I had to make do. I had honestly forgotten how good orgasms could feel.
At the time, I had no idea of the disaster that was awaiting me. This would not be the end of the power, the allure, or the sheer sexual energy that Super Latex was awakening in me.