Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Church of Bliss

by Spooky Boogy

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© Copyright 2023 - Spooky Boogy - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; fpov; latex; catsuit; gasmask; hood; mind-control; strip; naked; crop; cane; cons; XX

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Lay aside your passing pleasures,

Look beyond what cannot last

Luxuries are mere distractions,

Mundane comforts soon are past.

See in Bliss a grand horizon,

And a life more rich and vast

They came for her in the night, long after the faintly glowing lamps in the corridors outside her small chamber had been extinguished. Elise had just completed her evening rituals; clad in the heavy, transparent rubber of her nightgown, rising from the foot of her bed where she had been meditating. She had been contemplating the Bliss now almost constantly thrumming through her body along with the events of the last week and all that had happened since she had completed her Baptism. All of those thoughts were interrupted, though, as a knock came pounding at her door.

“Sister Elise; present yourself.” A synthesised voice boomed through her room, shocking her into motion, her body acting on autopilot – a common occurrence, lately, as she gave up more and more of her impulses to Bliss – to make her stand in front of the entryway, at attention, staring blankly forwards.

The door slowly swung open on perfectly oiled hinges, before a cadre of four perfectly shined figures strode through to surround the newly Baptised Sister. Elise’s eyes went wide as she recognised them by their uniforms – or, the lack thereof. Each of these figures was completely clad in black rubber, totally smooth latex encasing androgynous forms, without a single identifying mark or detail out of place. Even their faces were obscured behind a tight-fitting hood, giving only the impression of features but never enough to dispel the illusion that these creatures weren’t human. Elise’s eyes flicked between the two that she could see, tracing the outlines of their bodies, her skin crawling at the knowledge that there were two more standing behind her, out of sight. Then, she heard it; a slow, thudding footfall approaching from the corridor outside. Her blood ran cold as all doubt as to her immediate fate were cast aside.

Memories streamed through her mind of exploring the full depths of the convent during her first days as a Sister, strolling through the furthest reaches of the facility, until eventually she reached the dungeon, a place barely whispered about during her Initiation. She remembered the dread building up within her as she followed the cracks of whips and the groans of Bliss towards the central chamber, she recalled glimpses of these anonymous, faceless, rubber-clad drones carrying tools of torture back and forth, she replayed scenes of Sisters just like her being put through torment beyond her wildest dreams, and through it all, she had been there.

The Prioress had to duck as she stepped through the door to Elise’s chamber, a towering, muscle-bound woman whose rubber suit clung to the angles of her body in a way that left her strength obvious to anyone. The Sister’s wide eyes snapped between details; the belt at her waist, the flogger dangling from it, the flat-footed boots at the end of enormous legs, the form-fitting hood she wore instead of a gas mask like the other Sisters, the gleaming black lipstick covering her crooked, cruel grin, the eyes hidden behind tinted black lenses, the-

“Sister Elise.” The low growl of the Prioress’ voice cut through the panicking Sister’s thoughts. “It is good to meet you face to face, as opposed to feeling your eyes crawling the back of my neck.” She began to take slow, measured steps around the ring of drones, speaking in an easy tone – she was in total control and she knew it. “I hope your observations were… informative. As this is our first formal meeting, I will explain to you my purpose here, at the Church of Bliss.”

She stepped into the ring, bringing a gloved hand up to cup Elise’s chin. Suddenly, the Sister became acutely aware of how uncovered her face was, and how it had been a week since anyone else had seen her visage without a gas mask in the way. She would have started squirming from the discomfort, but the firm fingers of the Prioress held her perfectly still.

“It is my duty to carry out the Mortification on the Sisters at this convent. It is a task I have carried out for years, and one I have become remarkably… effective at. As a newly induced member of this church, it is time for you to endure your first session.”

Elise’s eyes gazed into the deep, dark pits that were the Prioress’ lenses, her thoughts pouring out into that abyss, swallowed up and leaving her with nothing but fear. The Mortification had been described to her only as a means of purifying the soul through hardship, but the sights she had witnessed while scurrying through the dungeon now shunted themselves to the forefront of her mind. Fear slowly began to spiral out into terror, when-

The Prioress let go of her chin, reaching to a small pouch at the back of her belt. “I know how you are feeling, Sister Elise, it is the same as every other Sister during their first session. I will make it clear to you now,” she pulled a bundle of liquid night from the pouch, holding it up and unfolding it to reveal a hood – a hood with no eye-holes – “that this process is entirely voluntary. If you accept it, all you must do is reach out, and pull this over your head. That is all.”

Her heart was thumping in her chest as Elise’s eyes flicked back and forth between the hood and the Prioress’ mask, those pitch-black lenses drilling an unrelenting stare into what felt like her very soul. The painted lips of the towering woman were still twisted into that cruel smile as she continued: “There will be no repercussions to refusing to participate.” Elise caught her own reflection in the lenses. “There will be no punishment for your refusal.” She looked so small, insignificant. “There will be no impact on your progression through this convent.” She could see her own eyes. She was naked. Not enough rubber. A thump of Bliss, deep in her core. “Make your decision, Sister Elise.”

Anonymity is Bliss.

Elise practically snatched the hood from the Prioress’ hand, letting out a whine as she pulled it over her head, sealing her vision away behind a layer of latex. The hood fit her perfectly, the oiled rubber sliding over her skin and giving at least some comfort back to her. She trembled as a hand pressed itself against her head, an almost reassuring gesture despite the power she could feel in it. “Good girl. Come with us.”

Over the last days Elise had become accustomed to the faint tug of Bliss, pulling her to where she was meant to be, but this was different – she was dragged by the Bliss, pulled along in a tidal wave of motion, practically staggering her way through corridors she couldn’t see, followed by the paced, measured, heavy footfalls of the Prioress and her squad of drones. Even without vision, without any sense of space, she knew where they were going. The dungeon.

“Fret not, Sister, as to the reasons behind your being chosen. You have not sinned in some way that requires penance, nor have you failed to follow our rules. This is merely your next step on the path of Bliss.”

It was the first time Elise had heard the word said, properly said, without it being dulled and altered by the vocal filters of a gas mask, and the sheer, unfiltered joy and ecstasy that audibly dripped from every letter pulsed a sympathetic spark of pleasure through her own body. She could picture the black lips of the Prioress sounding it out, the muscles on her rubber-coated body tensing in just the right way; even this titaness of a woman was just as impacted by Bliss. She was tugged to a halt, standing in what seemed like a large room, filled with chillingly cold air. She could feel the pain that had been dealt out here.

“We’re here. Sister Elise, step forward.”

Tentatively, the Sister felt forward with her bare feet, finding a small raised platform just ahead of her. She flinched back for a moment, but steeled herself and stepped forward – the tug was still strong within her.

“Bare her,” the Prioress instructed, and two sets of hands suddenly set at her nightgown in a flurry of movement, pulling it over her head in seconds and leaving her flesh totally exposed, barring her face behind its encasing hood. “Put her in her place.” The hands returned, gripping her ankles and wrists, and pulling her to stand spread eagled, hands above her head, legs splayed out slightly. The position was uncomfortable, but nothing she hadn’t experienced before. However…

“Sister Elise, I will again remind you. There is nothing holding you in place. You may let your hands fall at any time, or change your position, or simply leave. The only thing keeping you here is Bliss. If you do fail to maintain your stance, though, this session will end. Do you understand?”

Her fists clenched. Her thighs tensed. Elise nodded.

“Good. Begin.”

The whistle of a crop slicing through the air barely made it through the rubber of her hood before she felt the impact on her rear-end, a quick strike that immediately began to grow into a glowing sting, before the next, and the next, and the next, pain spreading out across her body, each hit impossible to predict. Just as she started to at least get used to the feel of the crop, a switch – a thud snapped any concentration she had, as a different set of hands swung a paddle in slow, heavy, and brutal motions, agony steadily dancing down her thighs. A groan of pain tore itself from her throat, muffled by the latex, and her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms, adding more and more to the tempest of sensation burning into her. She tried to repeat the mantra of the church in her mind, tried to focus herself, tried to keep herself grounded;

The Church of Bliss – Impact – accepts all – Impact – makes them one.

Anonymity is – Impact – is… Bliss.

Obedience – Impact Impact Impact – Obedience, it’s…

Impact – Pain – Impact – Pain – Impact – PAIN

The breath was torn from her lungs as a rubber-gloved fist slammed into her sternum, almost doubling her over. Her hands clenched at the air as a sudden panic flooded her body, irrational and yet overpowering – mustn't fail. The tug of Bliss screamed at her to stay in place, holding her still, freezing her limbs, and she steadily dragged herself back upright. The torrent of agony paused for a moment, and then resumed, intensified. The voice of the Prioress began to fill the space of the room, monotonous as she recited a mantra;

Tell me not of earthly pleasures,

Tempt me not with sordid gain;

The pain reached a fever pitch, not a single part of her body untouched, her chest stung over and over by a cane directed with perfect precision, the insides of her splayed-out thighs the target of a crop, a flogger matching the rhythm on the outsides of her legs.

Mock me not with life’s illusions,

Vex me not with lust in vain.

The drones moved in practised harmony, building up a rhythm on her flesh, creating a symphony, and as she groaned and cried through the agony the Bliss inside her began to pulse in the same tempo, faintly moving her hips and muscles in time with the incoming strikes, even without knowing their direction – not to reduce the pain, no, to enhance it, channel it, direct it.

I am weaned from all pleasure;

I am henceforth not my own;

Her grip on the air became rock solid, the strain in her limbs combining with the rest of the painful music, a bassline to play beneath the melody of each impact on her body, timed along with the thumping of her heart and the pulse of the Bliss. The sensations began to rise to a crescendo, she could feel what the drones were building up to, even the tensed and powerful body of the Prioress pacing around the room was a part of it, everything was connected, everything was one.

I have giv’n my heart to Bliss,

I belong to It alone.

The music stopped, the world held its breath, before one, final, brutal impact from the Prioress herself, the flogger that had been at her waist flung upwards to land directly between Elise’s legs.

Pain is Bliss

And then there was nothing.

The hood was pulled from her head, light streaming back through her eyelids, dragging her back to reality. She was standing, still in the same pose, panting from the exertion, and facing the Prioress – exactly at eye level, with the platform Elise was standing on. The twisted grin on the woman’s black lips was still there, but the cruelty was absent. “Well done, Sister. You have endured, and experienced, and evolved. Congratulations; I look forward to seeing you again. Drones, take care of her.”

And as the four drones approached, drawing her into a calm, peaceful, and perfectly rubbery embrace, Elise knew it wouldn’t be long before she found herself back here.


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