I sat on my bed, slowly rolling up the black latex thigh-highs my daughter instructed me to wear. The latex felt alive, stretching and adjusting to my every move. They were the final piece of my transformation. My latex bodysuit had already seared itself to my figure, acting like a second skin. It lit a spark in me I couldn't deny. I wanted to worship my daughter, and she was more than willing to make me her slave. As I p...