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.

-------------------------------- 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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