Imipolex

[Necridous]

Came across an exceedingly weird passage describing this on erowid and now I'm interested. The description is long, but I'm gonna paste it here anyway because the link is a huge wall of text and it would be hard to find. Apparently Imipolex is worn as clothing? simply touching or wearing the imipolex induces an extreme state of arousal which (I assume) eventually leads to hallucinations accompanied by ego death according to the report. This seems to weird to believe though.



``They took away my clothes and dressed me in an exotic costume of some
black polymer, very tight at the waist, open at the crotch. It felt
alive on me. `Forget leather, forget satin,' shivered Drohne. `This
is Imipolex, the material of the future.' I can't describe its perfume,
or how it felt - the luxury. The moment it touched them it brought my
nipples up swollen and begging to be bitten. I wanted to feel it against
my cunt. Nothing I ever wore, before or since, aroused me quite as much
as Imipolex. They promised me brassieres, chemises, stockings, gowns of
the same material. Drohne had strapped on a gigantic Imipolex penis
over his own. I rubbed my face against it, it was so delicious....
There was an abyss between my feet. Things, memories, no way to
distinguish them any more, went tumbling downward through my head. A
torrent. I was evacuating all these, out into some void ... from my
vertex, curling, bright-colored hallucinations went streaming ... baubles,
amusing lines of dialogue, objects d'art ... I was letting them all go.
Holding none. Was this `submission,' then - letting all these go?''
Pynchon (1973, p. 488).

So, anyone know anything about this chemical??

 

[Roeligan]

I've got the idea that this is a part of a novel, not some real fabric, could be written by someone who uses this omipolex as a metaphore for her latex-fetish

 

[Necridous]

now that I think about it, I may vaguely recall reading about a fictional substance called Imipolex in some sci-fi novel, but then again I may just be fooling myself.

 

[Forkbender]

This is a part of a novel called Gravity's Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon. It's a 20th century classic of American Lit.

Haven't read it myself, though...