Keywords: Transformation, Adult, Latex, Scifi
Species: Panther
Rubber Panther
Not much of a prolog to this one, just your average latex
fetish story. You know the ones ;)
Update - December 27, 2004. I just met Kangarooboy on IRC who has drawn a pic to go with this story.

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Rubber Panther
By Wolphin.
The two men moved down the steep walls of shelves.
"XJ-452," said one.
"Check," went the other, reaching into the shelf space with a large
pair of gloves. "Date: Fifteenth of July, 1964, Status: unknown,
reaction: toxic. I think we leave this one here."
The other man nodded his protective helmet in agreement and made a
note on his data pad before moving down.
"XB-713," were his next words.
"713...71... got it!" announced the other triumphantly, delving into
the back of the shelf.
The gloved hand pulled out a small canister about the size of a
thermos.
"Now lets see..." said the second man, turning it around so he could
read the label. "Different. Date: September 17, 1954. And old one.
Status: stable, reaction: none. That's unusual. What do we do
boss?"
The first man looked up from the pad and studied the canister for a
moment, then looked down at the pad, muttering to himself.
"Lets see..." he muttered to himself. "Submitted from the Everstone
Labs, they were not into biological or aggressive research.
Substance is listed as harmless, non toxic, biodegradable. Why did
they put it in here in the first place?"
"Toss it in," he said, gesturing to the cart. "At least we can say
we got rid of something."
The two men continued their round. The only other item that made it
into the cart was a small bundle of papers, that was fairly normal,
they were marked for immediate destruction which meant Bill would
toss them in the incinerator as soon as they cleared the airlock. As
they went through decontamination Brian looked at the canister slide
past on the conveyer belt.
"What you going to do with that?" he asked, nodding towards the
canister as the light went green and they started to climb out of
their suits.
Bill looked at the canister.
"Probably just heave it in with the papers," he said. "Its not worth
sending it off for biohazard disposal and its harmless anyway."
Brian nodded
"Why?" asked Bill curiously.
"Its just," began Brian. "I was looking it. I think it would be a
brilliant canister to have. Stainless steel, airtight, probably
insulated. I could use it camping or fishing."
Bill rolled his eyes as he buttoned up his shirt.
"Man, you are sick, most people would run screaming from it."
"Yeah, I know," smirked Brian. "But it is listed as harmless."
"True," said Bill sagely. "Look, I don't want to do the paperwork.
But you get the paperwork in shape, but the end of today and I'll
sign it. Then it's yours."
"Deal," announced Brian as the door slid open and the pair of them
walked into the corridor. "I'll chase you down before you sign out
for the weekend."
Bill nodded and waved his hand as they turned and walked in opposite
directions down the corridor.
Brian spent the remainder of his afternoon chasing up paperwork.
Fort Oaks was a nice place to work, but if you wanted to take
something off the base, it was a nightmare. Then again, it was the
Government's primarily storage facility for everything it wanted to
forget. Tunnelled into the solid granite of the mountains, its
cavernous rooms held everything from state secretes to toxins so
deadly one drop could wipe life form the planet. It was also ultra
secret and ultra classified. Aside from base personnel, the number
of people who knew about it numbered less than one hundred. The
number that knew its exact location was probably under ten.
This meant that coming and going from the base was also a nightmare.
Full body searches either way, random DNA identity scans. Brian knew
taking the canister home was not going to be an easy thing, but by
the end of the afternoon he had managed to fill out all twenty three
separate pieces of paperwork and their copies. Bill had kept his
word and signed the eight of them he had to. The base commander had
signed two of them, so at the end of the shift he fronted up to
security baring his package and the mountain of paperwork.
The guard looked at him suspiciously and the paperwork even more
suspiciously. Phone calls were made and after a twenty minute
interrogation he was allowed out. He had the normal bus ride to his
car, with everyone else on the bus eyeing his plastic carry bag
warily. It was not everyday someone carried a biohazard bag on the
bus, but it was the only one Brian could find.
He was dropped off at his car and drove the rest of his way home
planning his weekend. By the time he drove into his garage he was
convinced he had nothing planned. Dumping his bag in the kitchen he
headed for the bathroom. Even though the base had the best
decontamination facilities available, he felt nothing was as good as
his own shower.
Drying himself off he padded around the house naked. He did not
always do this, but he was planning an early night and getting
dressed seemed like a waste of time. Exploring the kitchen for food,
he rediscovered his earlier dropped package. Tipping the canister
out of the bag he looked at it.
It was about fourteen inches long and five inches in diameter and
appeared to be milled from a single piece of stainless steel.. One
end was smooth, while the other had an obvious top. Gripping that
tightly, he tried to turn it. At first it seemed locked, but as he
grunted, he felt it give and the top spun off rather easily. Pulling
the top away, Brian cautiously looked inside.
A strong synthetic smell hit his nostrils and he winced, pulling his
head back. It was like ammonia with some sort of hydrocarbons mixed
in. It made his eyes water and he placed the canister on the sink
and stepped back. Unfortunately his judgement was out slightly and
he hand only placed the canister on the edge of the sink. With a
loud metallic clank it fell into the basin and the contents poured
out. With the liquid flowing down the drain, the smell dissipated
fairly quickly and Brian looked at the mess that he was left with.
At first he thought it was some sort of chemical residue, but then he
noticed what had to be a deliberately formed curve. Rummaging in the
drawers for a pair of tongs, he picked up the mess and tried to sort
it out. The first thing he noticed was it was bigger than it looked.
It must have been exposure to the air or something, but it seemed to
be expanding. It looked a little like a jumble of glistening black
bicycle inner tubes. As he untangled them and arm became obvious,
then a leg... another arm, until finally he realised he was looking
at some sort of strange suit.
The last of the liquid had drained away by this time, but the suit
still glistened. Tentatively Brian poked it with the back of his
hand and waited. It felt cool and rubbery, but he was more wary
about a chemical reaction on his skin. After five minutes of waiting
and staring at the spot, there was nothing.
Placing the tongs on the counter, he reached in and pulled out the
suit. It was fairly light and drooped loosely where it was
unsupported. It appeared to be a full body outfit of some kind. The
feet bonded to the legs, with similar gloves bonded to the arms.
Behind it, some kind of mask lolled , the features flattened and
indistinguishable. Brian held the glossy black substance up to his
chest, doing some mental calculations and comparisons. It would
probably fit.
Without really being aware of his actions, Brian moved towards the
lounge room, still examining the suit. There was a large slit down
the front which he opened and peered into. The suit looked the same
on the inside as on the outside and before he knew it, Brian was
sliding a leg in.
The substance gripped his leg firmly and he sat himself down on a
chair to work the rubbery material smoothly over his leg. It took a
bit of fiddling to get his foot correctly into place, then more minor
adjustments up his calf. The material slid smoothly over his knee
and he pulled the suit up over his thigh, privately liking the
feeling of the smooth rubber closing around his flesh. He paused and
studied his covered leg, tracing a finger over the glossy black
material, he could feel his fingertip as if the material was not
there at all. He had thought it was an early form of latex, but it
was clearly beyond that.
Settling on the chair he began to work his second leg in, feeling the
substance stretch, then close around his flesh, holding him snugly in
its embrace. He worked the suit back up his leg as he had the other,
once it passed his knees, he began working each leg up at the same
time, smiling to himself as his thighs slid deeper into it. He
looked down and was surprised to see himself partially erect. He was
enjoying the cool touch more than he though.
As the suit covered his legs, he stood and squirmed it up over his
buttocks. The base of the slit in the front just allowing his penis
to hang out, while keeping his testicles held back. The suit must
have been designed for a male, because there seemed to be a small
pouch for his balls and all.
Brian stood up and stepped around the room. Despite its appearance,
the suit was surprisingly flexible, allowing his legs a wide range of
freedom, the rubber stretching when it needed to and contracting when
it did not, the outside remaining smooth and crease free.
Curious to get an overall picture, Brian made his way to the bedroom
and the full length mirror on the wall. Looking in that, Brian
noticed the rest of the suit hanging limply from his waist and
reached behind him to pull it up. It stretched easily to his
shoulders and he squirmed a little, pulling the folds over his
shoulders and chest. One hand began to worm its way down the arm.
The feeling the same as his legs, his free hand helping his covered
hand slipped into the fingers. He moved his arm about, watching it.
Glistening dully in the light, it seemed strangely alien. He looked
at his reflection, his body now over half covered by the rubbery
material and felt a strange thrill, noticing his penis climbing.
Growing more eager he wriggled his body, twisting, then pulling his
arm into the second opening. It slid in as smoothly as the first,
the rubber gliding over his skin as his fingers slipped into place.
He adjusted the front of the suit, the two sides now meeting up his
chest and overlapping, from his neck down, his penis was the only
part of him not covered in the shiny black substance. He smoothed
the last of the wrinkles out of his arms, the material slipping
against his skin and remaining there.
His penis looked strangely out of place, so he reached down and
slipped it inside the black folds. It formed a small bulge low down
on his stomach, but otherwise fitted into the streamlining of the
suit.
Brian looked back at the mirror, noticing the head piece lolling
against his neck. Reaching back he marvelled at the way the suit
stretched as he pulled the mask up and over his face. Like the rest
of the suit, it slid down smoothly against his skin, clinging gently
as it stretched. For a few moments he could not see anything, but
then the eyeholes lined up and he could study himself again.
His first response was to jump in astonishment. The mask was feline
in shape, a blunt nose and muzzle, high ears, reminiscent of a
panther. Grinning to himself, Brian lowered himself to his knees,
then onto all fours, reaching out to bat at the mirror.
"Mrowww..." he murmured softly, feeling a little foolish.
As he lent forward, the last flap of rubber under his chin brushed
the piece covering his torso. There was a tingle as he watched the
seam of rubber begin to seal, then his eyes seemed to blur and
everything went dark.
He blinked slowly, looking up from where he lay on the floor. He
stretched, shaking his body and looked at his reflection. Two blue
eyes started back, he took a step back, snarling, surprised to see
fangs in his mouth. He blinked, looking in the mirror carefully. He
was still covered in the black suit, its panther mask looking more
realistic than any mask should. One ear swivelled towards a noise
outside and he jumped in realisation.
It was not a suit any more.
He stood up, all fours feeling strangely natural and paced around the
room, long tail flicking in agitation. Rubberised claws dug at the
carpet and he pondered what to do. He hefted his front paws onto the
bed, willing himself to stand upright again and a strange sensation
tingled over his body.
His legs seemed to straighten, his hips grinding as his spine popped.
His stance changing as his body reshaped. He was still looking in
the mirror, paws lengthening into blunt hands as his shoulders
slipped back. Brian closed his eyes, the sensation extremely
intoxicating somehow. Unaware of his actions, he began to stroke at
the black surface even as the tingling faded.
He opened his eyes and looked at himself, he was now standing
bipedal, still blatantly feline, long tail twitching behind him, a
unreadable panther face looking back. His eyes travelled south, not
too surprised to see the alien feline sheath between his legs, the
large pink length that had emerged from the tip the only colour on
his body.
Reaching down slowly, he wrapped a rubber clad paw around it,
stroking it. It felt surprisingly good, the small barbs near the tip
sending bolts of pleasure through him with each caress. Before he
knew it, Brian had dropped to his back on the bed and was stroking
away, his other hand, exploring between his legs at the rubber clad
sac, then beyond to where the tail slid from his spine. His stroking
continued, clear pre dribbling from his shaft as he sped up, a finger
slipping inside the rubber dimple that marked his ass, the feeling of
the invading claw being too much. His balls heaved and a wave of
bliss washed over him, thick seed spurting from his shaft.
Slowly, as if longing to remain where he was, he stroked his body,
the feelings still washing over him as he slipped into a deep
slumber.
Brian woke late the next morning, he was curled up in a tight ball,
the events of the previous night a vague memory as he slipped into
his morning ritual. Gradually, during the course of his shower
memories of the suit began to return and he looked around, wondering
what had happened to it. He knew he didn't take it off before the
shower, so he must have taken it off sometime last night.
At least, that was the logical conclusion.
As he towelled himself dry he felt an unfamiliar bump on the back of
his head, just below the hair line. Curious he tried to twist his
head around and had to make do with two mirrors. He was surprised at
what he saw.
A small bump, less than half an inch across, slightly ellipsoid in
shape. It didn't hurt when he prodded it. In fact, it felt rather
good, almost pleasurable. No, it was pleasurable. He looked down,
watching as his penis began to stir and he purred in contentment.
That woke him up quickly. It had been a definite purr. One of his
hands had continued to rub at the bump on his head, and it now felt
larger. He pulled his other hand away from his growing shaft and
picked up the mirror.
The bump was growing. It was now an inch across and had changed from
the flesh coloured pink to a dark brown. As he watched, it continued
to spread and darken in colour.
His hands shivered and he dropped the mirror. Looking at his
reflection, he could now see the first traces of black beginning to
creep around his face. He felt a familiar tingling and looked down,
giving a gasp of horror. His penis and testicles were already
covered in the black substance which was spreading outwards from his
groin.
He felt the warmth begin to edge over his ears and he looked up in
time to see his face start to distort as it was slowly covered. Once
that had gone, the substance moved quicker, encasing his body in the
alien warmth.
This time he felt his stance change as his body was transformed and
he was not surprised to see two golden eyes looking back at him from
the mirror. Forgetting about everything else, he studied himself in
minute detail.
When he dropped to all fours, he reminded himself of a panther,
stalking his prey, but he was equally comfortable on two legs. There
he looked like a strange being with grotesquely distorted feet and a
feline head. He was fascinated by his hands and feet, or more
correctly, his paws. His fingers had appeared to have shrunk and
just the tips of claws poked from their tips, but without really
knowing how, he could make the long ebony talons slip out silently.
They were sharp too, the remains of one of his dining room chairs was
testament to that.
It was while he was exploring his tail that he noticed the time. He
was already an hour late for work and there was no way he was going
like this; they would lock him up on sight. He was going to call in
sick, but discovered that he could not form intelligent words. It was
speech, but only just, the words barely understandable. Then there
was the problem of how to get back to being human. Obviously it was
reversible, but Brian had no clue about how to trigger it.
It was just as he was thinking about digging a claw into his slick
black flesh to see if it was human under there, that the suit began
to peel itself back. It started at his legs, tingling slightly, then
his face seemed to pull back into his head and he felt his sense of
smell diminish. He looked down, watching the black substance seem to
roll back, exposing familiar human skin beneath it. A human torso
emerged as it split, some rolling down towards his groin and some
rolling up towards his head. In a matter of seconds, he could not
see a trace of the black any more. All of his body looked perfectly
normal to him.
He felt around the back of his head and there was the small bump,
just as it had been that morning. He remembered the goo disappearing
between his legs and began to examine himself. There, between his
testicles and anus was a similar small bump. Aside from those two
indistinguishable bumps, he looked perfectly normal.
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Legal Stuff: All pages and content copyright Wolphin, 2004 Please do not use without permission Sheep go baa; Cows go moo. |