A wolf is bound in latex, for his birthday by his mistress mare and “forced” to submit…
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The closing in of the latex around him was more restrictive than Razak had ever felt it before and yet all was exactly where it should have been. His heart had pounded at seeing the new box on the bed, his name on it and, just for good measure, a notecard simply placed with the words, “Open me”. As if he could have resisted either way.
It was not black, however, the glide of the latex over his powdered fur, everything done up just so that it would slide on a little bit easier. As a wolf anthro, it was never the easiest thing for him to slip into a latex suit of any kind, though that one was more of a wetsuit type, covering anything. It had teased up his legs, the sock-like booties making sure that his hind paws too were useless, blue latex covering up the darker blue of his fur, the gleam of white running down his front.