Vocation

It started out as an ordinary night, for the most part - at least, relatively speaking. K had prepared for the event as they normally did: pulling their treasured catsuit out of its designated garment bag, relishing as the scent of latex filled the room for a few moments before they began the tiresome process of sliding and squeezing themselves into the tight embrace of the rubber. Fifteen minutes later, out of breath but all the happier for it, they dedicated another few moments to the act of applying what felt like half a bottle of spray-on polish, straining and stretching to try and reach every spot - the effort would almost certainly be wasted, given that they were about to put on another layer of clothes on top of what they quickly and comfortably began to think of as their skin so that they could transit to the venue without catching too many stares, but they needed that quiet moment to ground themselves, to feel the slick touch of rubber on rubber, watch the glistening shine coat their body and bring it closer to their ideal.

From there, makeup - hastily done, and with an annoying skew to the eyeliner on their left eye, but it only had to last until they reached the cloakroom - then a frantic realisation that they were running late, before throwing a long, lacey black dress over the top, which would match the black rubber and purple accents of their catsuit for an acceptable disguise while still being easy enough to take off on the other side. Their hood and polish was thrown into a bag, and rubber fingers clumsily tapped out an order for an Uber on their phone. Keys, cash, ID, all tossed in afterwards and out the door.

Sitting in the back of the car, heart racing more from the exertion than the anticipation of spending a night in rubber amidst a small but energetic coven of kinksters, K couldn't help but let out a sigh tinged with frustration. It all just seemed a little pointless.

The people in their scene were all lovely, and sweet, and welcoming, and the exact opposite of all the other things they had been worried about from the horror stories they'd come across online. They'd been invited in with open arms, and had people sitting next to them at munches to chat about just about anything that came to mind, and they'd even made it out to a good handful of events at this point, doing scenes on and off with a few tops, which were at least partly enjoyable, if not exactly in their wheelhouse. But, then, that was where the problem really came in.

No one they had met could satisfy them.

Sure, some of them were

attractive

, some of them were

appealing

, some even elicited a faint stir in the near-permanently dormant area between their legs, but none of them were really

enough

. It wasn't their fault, K was more than comfortable admitting; they just had very... particular requirements. In short: none of them were worthy of their

worship.

The Uber slowed to a halt, dragging K out of their own head and back into the real world. Standing on the side of the road, backpack slung over one shoulder, latex-covered skin rapidly cooling in the evening air, they weighed up whether it was even worth going inside. The door stood in front of them, a heavy, ponderous slab, and the thought of turning around, calling another Uber home, and forgetting the whole thing as a waste of time flashed into their head. By then, though, the door had opened, and the face of the host had poked around the edge.

"K? What're you doing standing around out there, you'll catch a cold in all your latex! Come on in already!"

Meek, head lowered to hide a blush mostly hidden by dark cheeks, they shuffled inside, muttering a quiet response. Moments passed in a flash, the host happily chatting away over their head - or, rather, through it, since they were barely shoulder-height on K - their bags deposited in the cloakroom, hood pulled out before everything was put away, a few smiles and "welcome!"s from people they recognised from past visits, and then they were suddenly in the club itself, a large, open space branching off into small alcoves, side rooms, cubbyholes and corridors. The music was just a little too loud for them, the lights bright enough to faintly hurt their eyes, the sharp yelps of someone having their ass beaten on the cross by the back wall cutting into them and making them jump with every impact. Hurriedly, near-frantic, they pulled the hood over their head, the slick, smooth rubber moving easily, comfortingly against their shaved head.

K took a deep, satisfying breath, the scent of latex once again flooding their senses. Creaking rubber sounds drowned out the music for a moment as they adjusted the hood and tightened the zip at the back, the perforated eyes lining up with their own and feeding a dimmed view of the outside world to them, the harsh lights soothed to a dull glow. Now, for the first time in weeks, they felt like an approximation of their true self. They walked through the club, waving and giving nods that were almost bows to the few people who recognised their distinctive appearance, but they had a destination in mind. A tall, wall-length mirror near the back of the room, next to the changing rooms. They stood in front of it, and beneath the smooth, featureless latex of their hood, the corners of their lips tugged up into a faint smile.

In the mirror, standing with a confidence that K would normally never be able to manage, they saw something

different.

Something not quite human, something manifested from latex, not a single scrap of discernable flesh visible, only slick, shiny black rubber trimmed with gleaming purple lines, something that looked like it belonged kneeling by someone's side and not standing around on its own-

And just like that, the smile collapsed. The flaws in the image rushed back in, reality hitting K like a hammer. The annoying flash of skin as the collars of their suit and hood failed to meet perfectly, the smudge of dull latex where their dress had soaked up some of the silicon, and, worst of all, the lack of a worthy figure to kneel for. The shoulders of that proud latex thing in the mirror drooped, and K turned away, squinting through the dulled lenses of their hood to see if there was a group of people they knew that they could lurk around for a time.

As K turned, though, things changed. The night went from ordinary to anything but in the space of a blink, as their gaze fell upon the entrance to the main hall of the club, all the way across the room. Or, rather, that's where they tried to look, when a sudden, blinding glare forced them to squint and turn away, even with the dimming, perforated lenses of their hood. They looked around at the others in the club, expecting some sort of uproar from the unexpected addition of a high-powered spotlight to a normally-dark club, but no one else seemed to be reacting. They risked another glance, screwing their eyes up in an attempt to see the source of the light, before the world dropped out from under them as they realised what,

who

, they were looking at, and their heart screeched to a halt.

Beauty. Perfection. Divinity.

The glow surrounded the silhouette of a person, backlit into anonymity by the light, bright enough that K had to keep blinking to even catch a glimpse of any detail, the outline of the figure branding itself on the back of their eyelids every time they closed, every time filling in a little piece of the picture, never the whole. The long, sweeping dress that could only be made of latex, long arms capped with delicate, gloved fingers, a raised, sharp chin outlined by a hood not dissimilar from K's own. Between each blink, they could swear that a jagged crown hovered slightly behind the newcomer's head, although it never resolved into detail.

K's heart leapt back into motion as they inhaled a gasping breath, turning away from the entrance, every nerve in their body alight in some twisted mix of terror and desire. They were paralysed, gripped by warring desires; one part could chart no other path than rushing across the room and falling to their knees before this avatar of godhood, pledging themselves into eternal servitude, while the other cried out in fear of attracting that terrible creature's attention, insisting that they should dive into the deepest, darkest pit they could find and never emerge.

Ultimately, shamefully, the latter part won out. Keeping their gaze studiously away from the source of the overpowering glow, K slunk their way to a booth where a few acquaintances were chattering away, discussing plans for the evening. K was incorporated into the conversation with little fanfare and little recognition, which suited them completely fine. With one ear trained towards the conversation, just enough to make the occasional agreeable noise in approximately the right spot, the rest of their attention was devoted to actively and studiously ignoring the glow that constantly threatened to invade their vision from the corner of their eye. Over time, mercifully, the glow seemed to recede, fading away as the newcomer wandered deeper into the venue, their radiance seemingly unable to penetrate several meters of concrete and wall paneling. K decided to count their blessings, and made muttered excuses to their friends to hurry off to the bathroom - they needed to clear their head,

now.

The winding corridors of the club soon gave way to the small, sterile chamber they needed, their latex suit soaking up blue-tinged light like a black hole collapsing eternally in on itself. Fumbling fingers caught the zip of their hood, pulling it forward and off of their head, revealing the bare, all-too-human head beneath. Their makeup had smeared long ago, leaving their wide eyes rimmed with dark smudges, but the mix of panic and devotion shining out from them was obvious even to K themself. What the

fuck

was all that?

They couldn't get the silhouette out of their head, the jagged crown shining in their mind like it had been seared into their thoughts, burning bright in a colour they couldn't name. Their knees still trembled with the urge to fall down and prostrate themselves before that figure, crying out their unworthiness in the hopes of being granted some abstract idea of mercy, their thoughts twisting in unfamiliar circles, bathed in that divine light.

They shook their head, trying to push the glow out, again, again, but it only got stronger. It only got stronger.

It was getting stronger.

They gasped, spun around, tried to reach the door and escape the inevitable, but any impulse died as the door to the bathroom swung open, impossibly slowly, everything grinding to a halt as the click of a boot landing on a tiled floor announced the arrival of a god.

K's eyes dropped to the floor as the glare redoubled in its intensity, blinding even in its reflection on the faded ceramic walls. The door swung closed, and K could do nothing but wait, wait for some calamity to fall on them for daring to exist in the same space as something inconceivably greater than themselves, a destruction so total that they would cease to exist, a nothingness subsumed by the divine light that threatened to burn their eyes out if they so much as opened them fully.

Look at me.

The words might have been spoken, but K didn't hear them, not truly. They appeared directly in their mind, branded across the front of her cortex, not as a request, not even as an order, but as an inevitable action that they would take - it was not a question of obedience, rather, they could no longer conceive of a world in which they did not act as they voice directed.

Slowly, their eyes crept upwards, the glow gradually becoming almost manageable, as if by being granted permission, by receiving instructions, the universe had decided to grant mercy and permit them to look upon the divine, if only for a time. They drank in the sight before them; the perfectly slick hem of the newcomer's dress, the rubber-coated legs barely visible beneath it, the smooth, almost-feminine lines of their waist, the flat, latex-coated chest, those perfectly gloved hands, the sharp chin, the midnight-black lips drawn up into a crooked smile-

The eyes.

K's knees finally gave out as they made eye contact with their new god, slumping down into their proper place at last, never breaking that connection. They were like windows into a reality so far beyond comprehension that their mind simply gave up, rendering them an impossible shade of purple as they struggled to absorb the sudden upheaval to everything they had ever known.

Impossible. Perfect. Real. Divine.

You've been avoiding me, little thing.

The words came again, even though those perfect lips never moved, the smile only deepening. K opened their mouth as if to respond, but found nothing to say, unable to construct a response as they flicked between a desire to grovel and beg for forgiveness and a need to confirm and explain the obvious.

Be calm, K.

And like that, every shred of worry, every drop of fear and concern, everything drained out of K's body, leaving nothing but sanguine calm in their wake. Distantly, deep down, a small part of them was screaming. A moment later, and that was snuffed out as well.

Most do not recognise it. Most do not see it.

A rubber glove, faintly creaking, reached out to brush against K's chin. The gesture was barely a motion from this strange divinity, but to K it felt like the entire universe had just come crashing down on their head.

You are not "most", K. You are special.

Something snapped within K, some final shred of resistance, some last urge to remain independent, a holdover of their reptile brain refusing to acknowledge the new reality it now inhabited. In that moment they knew that the rest of their life would be devoted to serving this person, this deity, this shard of impossibility made manifest. And they were happy. A question came to their lips, barely formed, barely spoken, yet containing as much meaning as their entire life up until that point. "

Who."

You may call me Saturn, little thing.

The name rocked K's very being, the glow suffusing their being suddenly focusing down into a single, pinpoint focus. To name a thing is to know a thing, and their soul trembled under the weight of the knowledge Saturn granted to them. The knowledge of what they were, what they could do, what they demanded of those who would be

theirs

. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, something deep down inside K signalled acknowledgment, understanding, acceptance.

You must be properly attired.

Saturn, with the faintest inflection of a gloved wrist, indicated that K should lift their own. Never breaking eye contact with their new deity, their new reality, they pulled the hood up over their head, sealing themselves back into that latex shell, imperfect, flawed, and yet as close as they'd ever come to their true self. The zip closed, and the rubber pulled tight around their face, and yet they knew that it was not nearly enough, not perfect enough for a creature of Saturn - yet, they somehow knew, somehow felt that Saturn approved of their efforts, saw their attempts to reach apotheosis, took pity on a creature who desperately wanted to be simultaneously something more and something less.

A needle appeared in one of Saturn's hands, a long, thin shard of moonlight, impossibly thin. With it, they pricked a fingertip on the other hand, a smooth, practiced, effortless motion. The shard disappeared, but K watched wide-eyed as a droplet of midnight-black ichor welled up on the tip of that glove. They fell into its inky surface, their mind cascading down into itself as the fingertip approached, closer, closer, closer.

Saturn pressed their finger against the forehead of their new acolyte, and stepped back to watch the process. A wave of change swept across the figure, spreading out from the single droplet to anoint their entire body. The faint creases and grooves of the rubber smoothed out, the two collars merging seamlessly together and leaving no hint of a seam. The zips melted away into flat surfaces of rubber, the purple trims gleamed as they subtly shifted to perfectly match Saturn's impossible eyes, and the perforations over K's face faded away, leaving only opaque rubber in their wake. The creature that was once K no longer needed those to see, their vision now supplied directly by the rubber, at once impossible and yet all too natural.

The creature trembled as the rubber seeped into their body, combining, melding, changing them inside and out, taking what was once a shy, lonely human who had spent evening after evening fantasising about finding someone to worship and crafting them, shaping them, molding them into something worthy of offering up its worship. The nooks and crannies of its mind flooded with slick, shiny devotion, its heart was coated in inky black worship. Its mind, at last, blanked out under the weight of the universe flooding in, as the barest speck of Saturn's divine essence took root within their body, their soul.

The process continued for what might have been seconds, hours, or days, and eventually, something that might call itself K began to reassert itself. It felt out the corners of its new mind, brushing up against the shiny cage of worship it had willingly sealed its own thoughts inside, never escaping the

pull

of devotion it felt towards its new god. If it still had eyes, it might have blinked itself awake, the vision from its rubber face streaming into its mind as it looked up at Saturn anew, at last seeing them for their true nature.

Rise, my acolyte.

In one keening, blissful, terrible scream, they wept, and they worshipped, and they were perfect.

Later, as the night wound down and patrons began to drift back out into reality, the host sought out the latest newcomer to their party, hoping to ensure that they'd had a good time. Surprise crossed their face for a moment as they took in the figure kneeling sedately beside the newcomer's chair, a blank, featureless effigy cast in rubber, body outlined in a faintly shimmering purple trim. It turned its head towards them, which was impossible - there weren't even the faintest hint of eyes on that latex visage. A shiver of recognition almost reached the host's mind, before it was quickly pushed down by, smothered by something they couldn't quite understand and had no inclination of probing into.

"Uh- Saturn! So glad to see you settling in! Have you enjoyed your time here? Will we see you again?"

A face they couldn't quite bring themselves to look directly at turned their way, midnight-black lips curling into a wide smile.

Certainly.