FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Simon rubbed his temples and frowned. He looked down at the mess that had been left for him to clean up, yet again. Despite his insistence, the researchers at the facility never showed any initiative on how to properly clean up after themselves, and the usual mess of scattered papers and discarded coffee cups were strewn throughout the offices and laboratories. He was in for another long night.

With a sigh, Simon put his headphones on and started to listen to some music while he worked. It wasn’t like he needed to speak with anyone. Not many people were left in the building, just his supervisor, Ellen, and a couple of the researchers staying back late to finish up their experiments and calculations. None of them even looked towards the cleaner as he started his work. Nor did he have much interaction from Ellen, as she started work in the factory floor.

Hours passed by and the sky outside the facility windows darkened and the after-hours lighting slowly powered on. One by one the scientists and researchers all left, and Simon felt like he was all alone. He hadn’t even seen Ellen since the two shared a coffee at the very start of their shift. He didn’t even notice time going by, just that the work left never really seemed to diminish.

Simon’s back and shoulders ached when he finally cleared up the last of the offices. The tables were tidied, the floors swept and mopped, and all the various detritus had been binned. There had been a lot of discarded notes on the floor about an unstable new formula that had gone into the latex production, but as they had been left on the floor, Simon had no qualms in disposing of them.

He pulled his headphones off and hung them around his neck as he stretched out his back and glanced towards the nearest clock. Almost midnight, three hours later than the time he was meant to be finished. He muttered a curse beneath his breath and shook his head. Fridays were usually bad, but not that bad.

The corridors were all empty as Simon made his way back to the janitor’s closet. He dragged the mop bucket behind him, not minding if a little dirty water sloshed out the side. No one was going to be walking the corridors until Monday morning after they locked up.

There was only one problem. The janitor’s closet was locked; the door handle simply rattling at Simon’s attempts to open it.

“Oh come on. Ellen?” he called out, turning left and right to see if his supervisor was anywhere near. There was no sign of her at all, and nor could he hear anything but his echoing voice. He didn’t think anyone else was there.

Simon tried the door handle again, knowing it was a futile effort. The finger scanner he used to sign in and out of his shift was in there, so if he wanted to be paid properly then he’d need to get in. At least his wallet, phone and keys were in his pocket though, or else he’d be stuck, unable to get home at all.

He was about to give up and just go when he thought he heard a faint noise from somewhere towards the factory floor. Knowing that was where Ellen had been cleaning, he decided to investigate, just in case. She could well be hurt after all.

The factory floor was almost silent. Simon had never heard it so quiet before, with all the great pieces of machinery completely still. He could hear his footsteps echoing through the vast room on the concrete floor. This was the finest production line of latex toys in the country, but he knew little about anything that went on in the factory. All he needed to worry about was keeping everything clean and tidy, not knowing how everything made, or even what all the toys did.

A large vat of the liquid latex was held in one corner of the factory floor. It was the only thing still active, with the slow rotor blades inside slowly churning the latex to keep it fluid. But for that and his footsteps, there were no sounds to be heard. Ellen certainly wasn’t in here.

Simon rolled his eyes and shook his head. Of course she wasn’t going to still be here. She’d have left hours ago, probably not realising that he was still here. There was nothing else for it. He’d just have to speak to her on Monday to make sure he got paid right. He started to make his way back towards the exit when he heard a small dripping noise.

Turning to the side, Simon watched as some black drops fell down from the massive, churning vat next to him. A small puddle was already forming on the floor. He reached out and let a couple of drops drip down onto his hand. It felt warm and viscous. Normally he’d go get his mop and quickly wipe it up, but at gone midnight he realised that he simply didn’t care. He rubbed his cheek. It might make a big mess by Monday, but he really didn’t want to deal with it now.

After wiping his hand idly on his trousers, Simon made his way out of the factory. Pausing only to collect his bag from the locker room, Simon made his way out into the cool night. His was the last car left in the carpark, so at least he didn’t have to try to remember exactly where he had parked.

One advantage of working so late was that the traffic had cleared, leaving Simon with a clear run home. It only took him half an hour instead of the usual hour and a bit during the peak rush hour in to work. All the while he had a strange itching on his hand and cheek, but he was able to put it out of his mind until he made it through his front door.

Depositing his bag down in the living room, Simon made his way up to the bathroom to check out his reflection in the mirror. Dark streaks of liquid latex were smeared over his cheek, right where his skin was itching. He sighed and rubbed his temples, accidentally getting more of the stuff on his face.

“Dammit,” he muttered, remembering too late that his fingers were still coated in the stuff. It shouldn’t be an irritant to the skin, but for some reason it was causing a reaction to him.

Rinsing his hands beneath water didn’t seem to do anything either, not even with soap as well. No matter how hard he scrubbed, the smudges of liquid latex just clung to his skin. This was a reaction he hadn’t expected.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Simon went to prepare something to eat. He hadn’t had anything since his small lunch, and his stomach was certainly starting to protest. Food first, then he could look into cleaning up the latex smudges. It wasn’t like the latex would do him any harm, but for that little bit of itchiness.

As he prepared some quick, microwave dinner, Simon was even able to forget about work for a few minutes. He browsed through a few new movies on his TV’s streaming service and picked one out he liked the look of. A good action adventure with lots of mindless violence. No plot to speak of, but entertaining at least.

The microwave dinged and Simon returned to the kitchen to retrieve his dinner. Wrapping his hand in a tea towel to protect it from the heat, he carried the small tray into the living room so he could watch the movie and eat.

As he had hoped, the movie and food were enough to distract his mind, allowing him to unwind from the stress of work. Even the latex smudges were driven from his mind as he watched the action film unfold before him. By the time the hero succeeded against all odds, Simon was lying back on the sofa with his arms resting behind his head.

He could almost have fallen asleep right there, but for the sudden flare of itchiness in his hand and cheek. Simon cried out and cradled his right hand in his left. It didn’t hurt as such, but the sensation was very strange, like something was burrowing in beneath his skin. It itched madly, but Simon was too afraid to scratch it lest the latex spread again.

Ignoring everything else, Simon ran back up to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. There was no denying what his eyes were telling him; the latex was starting to spread. Ripping off his clothes so fast he could hear them tear, he threw his glasses onto the bundle of fabric and jumped into the shower, turning the water on as fast as he could manage. Yelping as it went from ice cold to boiling and back again, he managed to find a tolerable temperature before starting to scrub at his face and hands.

Nothing worked. The slick black fluid just clung tight to his skin like it was glued in place. He simply couldn’t scrub it off no matter how hard he tried. Even worse, the warm water was starting to spread it faster. Already the entirety of his right was covered, turning his skin black and strangely smooth to the touch. His wet fingers slipped over each other, loosening his grip on the bar of soap he was futilely rubbing over the spreading latex.

The bar of soap squirted from his fingers and landed on the wet tiles at his feet. He didn’t even bother bending down to try and pick it up, instead just staring at the spreading blackness over his hand and up his arm. He stared on with a curious detachment. At the back of his mind he wondered how he was going to report this on Monday, if this would hinder his ability to work. Then the active part of his mind kicked in again, and he clawed at the latex spreading over his wrist.

To his dismay, his renewed action only spread the latex onto his previously unblemished hand, rapidly covering his skin in the inky blackness. He tugged and pulled at it, but simply couldn’t grip it, like he was trying to grab hold of his skin. He continued his futile efforts, even as the liquid latex engulfed his arms and started to spread down his torso.

As he looked down, he could see latex spreading from his neck, trickling down over his chest. One hand raised up to feel his face to find the smudge over his eye had already spread. He felt higher, but there was nothing but smooth latex now. His hair had gone, but looking around the shower cubicle he could find no trace of it. His brown locks were completely missing.

He pinched his tongue between his fingers, feeling them slip over the smooth, latex surface the interior of his mouth had become. It squeaked softly, the warm water lubricating the surfaces enough that they didn’t stick together much.

Distracted by his changed head, Simon didn’t even notice his chest and back had been completely coated. The liquid latex was down to his hips already and wasn’t showing any signs of slowing. As it crept over Simon’s ass and cock, the sudden coolness made him yelp and dragged his attention away from his head in an instant.

A thick tendril pressed at his rear. Though he clenched, it was persistent enough to press into his rear and slowly start to pulse as it pumped into him. Leaning forward and pressing his hands against the shower wall, fingers splayed wide, Simon felt like a thick shaft was pushing deep inside him, undulating gently as it moved deeper and deeper. His cock twitched as it flowed over his prostate, and he couldn’t keep in the pleasure moan that escaped his lips a few moments later.

He reached down and wrapped the fingers of one hand around his latex-coated cock, slowly sliding up and down. The water allowed his hand to slide smoothly over the shining shaft, squeezing in gently to dimple into the sensitive surface. It gleamed in the soft light reflected off the tiled walls, as did the rest of Simon’s body.

Panting in lust, Simon didn’t pay any attention as the latex crept down his legs. Less and less of his skin was showing now, just his lower legs and feet remaining. Nor was he caring now, his mind distracted by the incredible sensations emanating from his cock. Every touch was even more sensitive than he was used to, keeping his mind focussed on his fingers as they squeaked and rubbed over his needy cock.

It wasn’t until he could hear his feet squeaking on the tiled floor that Simon’s thoughts started to return again. He gasped and clenched his hands, one rubbing over the walls and the other squeezing around his shaft. He took a couple of deep breaths before reaching out to turn the water off.

His body glistened as water trickled down over his smooth rubber skin. The soft drip drip drip of water dropping from his body to the tiles was the only noise, at least until he moved. Then his body squeaked and creaked as latex rubbed over latex. While he was wet, every movement felt smooth and easy, his skin slippery still.

Taking a couple of unsteady steps, he slowly made his way out of the shower. His feet slipped slightly on the wet tiles, not providing him with much grip at all. His legs felt a little soft as well, compressing slightly as his weight settled down on them.

Stumbling forward, he rested his hands down on the side of the sink and stared with wide eyes at his reflection in the mirror. It looked like he was wearing a skin-tight latex body suit, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He plucked at the latex around his cheek, wincing in pain as it stretched and snapped back into place. It was no suit. It was his skin now. Somehow.

He knew he should be worried, but the feeling was completely absent. Everything just felt too good to worry about, especially down between his legs. His cock was still hard, twitching slightly and bouncing off the porcelain sink. Trying to ignore it, he rubbed his hands over his face and neck, just to get a feel for his new body. It wasn’t as rigid as flesh, feeling soft and almost spongy to the touch of his fingers.

Never once taking his eyes off the mirror, he reached out for a towel and started to pat himself dry. He peered into the reflection of his eyes in the mirror as he did so. They were dark, nearly pure black with no visible whites. Just a black pupil surrounded by inky, shiny darkness. It was almost hypnotising to stare into, and it was an effort to drag his gaze away.

As his body dried, it started to make a little more noise as he moved. It squeaked and creaked, sticking slightly with every movement. He could feel the latex skin stretch a little before giving way, reluctantly allowing the motion.

Turning from the bathroom and padding out into his bedroom, Simon kept clinging onto the damp towel to stop his hands from wandering. His steps were more stable on the soft carpet, his feet no longer threatening to slip every time he planted his weight down.

Simon collapsed down on his bed with a groan, letting the towel drape across his chest as he lifted his arms up. He stared at his hands in confusion, his rational mind starting to return to the forefront of his thoughts. What had caused this to happen? Was this really what they were doing at work? He had never heard of anything like this happening before. Turning organic material into living latex? He couldn’t help but gasp in excitement over the possibilities that created. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself as a test subject, but he couldn’t deny that he rather liked the result.

His hands dropped down again. He enjoyed the sounds his fingers made as they skipped across his chest, the latex resisting as he tried to rub over it. Slowly his hands moved lower, before his fingers gently wrapped around his cock. It hadn’t softened at all, still hard as it bobbed in the air, swaying from side to side like a shining dildo.

It was too tempting to resist, and his hands started to stroke up and down. At first the latex was almost sticky, making his strokes rough and jerky. He closed his eyes and bit his lip gently, but didn’t allow himself to stop. He rocked his hips and let out a soft groan as a little pre dribbled out from his tip. More followed, a near-constant trickle starting to drip down his shaft.

Slowly it lubricated his cock, making it slippery again and letting Simon’s hand glide over the smooth surface with ease. Pre continued to well up spilling down over his fingers and trickling over his balls in small rivulets to drip onto the bedsheets. It possessed a curious scent, almost sweet. Most unlike what his pre had been before.

Giving his balls a little squeeze and shivering from the soft squeaks they made beneath his fingers, Simon groaned and started to stroke his shaft a little faster. His pre spread more and more, making each stroke easier than the last. The soft creaks gave way to squeaks, and it wasn’t long before Simon felt his orgasm building deep within his crotch.

With his heavy-lidded eyes only partially open, Simon groaned in pleasure as his hand squeezed that little bit tighter around his cock. His shaft twitched in his grip and he curled up his squeaky toes. It felt like his whole body was tingling with pleasure as the sensation grew within him, spreading out from his crotch and through his limbs, a burning need ready to be unleashed.

Finally, with a loud cry, Simon came hard, releasing all the sexual tension that had been building up within his new, rubbery body. Even his cum had changed, and several large spurts of liquid latex seed splattered over his chest. He gripped tight on his cock until the last few squirts of pre dribbled from the tip.

One lazy hand reached out for the towel and he pulled it up onto his chest to help soak up some of the cum as his head flopped back into the pillow. His body relaxed, finding every movement to be difficult. He couldn’t even bring himself to properly wipe the towel over his wet chest. It was so much easier to just lie back in his bed and close his eyes...

***

When Simon woke the next day, he assumed he had been subject to a bizarre dream. The memories of the previous night were still strong in his mind, but he could not bring himself to believing they had truly happened. He could feel his bedsheets draped over him, as well as what felt like a towel bundled up between his legs.

Rolling onto his side, Simon paused and opened his eyes a little as he heard a strange squeak. He slowly sat up and squinted down, pulling the covers aside. He gasped at what he saw. It had not been a dream at all, and his entire body was sleek and black, gleaming in the light that streamed in between the curtains.

Questions of how and why remained unsaid. Simon knew he didn’t have an answer for them anyway, so there was little point in voicing them to the empty room. Instead, his hands explored his body once more, this time lacking the sexual intent he had been filled with during the night. He searched for any seams in the latex, any sign that there was some way to remove the shining rubber from his body, but he found nothing.

There was no denying it. He wasn’t just wearing a full-body latex suit. His skin had been turned to rubber. Sitting up fully, Simon ran his hands over his body, getting a feel for everything, trying to ignore the little twitches from his cock. He didn’t want to get lost in the lustful impulses that had taken him during the night, wanting instead to understand why this had happened to him. Of course, his body held no answers at all. Everything was smooth latex, looking, feeling, and sounding just perfect to his senses. Only it should have been skin.

Simon slid out of bed and got to his feet, tossing the towel that had been wrapped around his legs to the side. It had still been slightly damp, slick with his liquid-latex cum. Once more he looked in the mirror to admire his new form. His body shape was the same; still that little bit of chubbiness the rigours of his job had been unable to slim away. He just wasn’t used to seeing it so shiny.

He wasn’t sure what to do now. As enjoyable as his body was, and as nice as it looked, he knew that he simply couldn’t go on day to day like this. He would never be able to disguise the shine in his pitch black skin, nor the squeaks and creaks he made with every movement. People just weren’t made of living latex. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but there was only one place he was going to get any sort of answers. He needed to get back to work.

Of course, there was only one problem with that. He couldn’t go outside like this. Too many questions would be asked, too many stares cast in his direction. But did he really have a choice? What if he needed to get it fixed within a certain amount of time? He could end up stuck like this if he didn’t hurry.

Biting his lip, Simon paced back and forth around his bedroom, before finally pulling the curtains aside and peering outside. The skies had darkened with grey clouds. Rain was already starting to drizzle, with the promise of storms to come. He frowned as he looked out onto the road. That might give him the opportunity he needed.

Turning back into his room, Simon started to get dressed. His clothes felt strange over his latex skin, sliding smoothly over the surface until they settled in place. Despite the reasonably warm weather, he put on a thick hoodie to cover his arms. His hands and feet looked strange, the shiny latex poking out the fabric. He covered them up with a pair of socks and gloves, leaving just his head exposed. He pulled the hood of his jacket up and tied it tight. At least with the rain on its way, he wouldn’t look too out of place with that pulled up around his head. Short of a mask, there wasn’t much he could do about his face. He could only hope he didn’t actually need to get close to anyone.

Taking a deep breath, Simon picked his glasses up and perched them on his nose. They slipped a bit more than usual, but after adjusting them a little he was able to make them stay put. He then made his way outside and towards his car, parked on the side of the road. Thankfully no one was around to see him, nor to hear the quiet squeaks he made as he walked, not entirely muffled by his clothes.

The drive to work wasn’t too bad, though there was a bit of traffic around. He was pretty sure his latex skin couldn’t sweat, as he remained dry throughout. He felt like he should have been sodden with sweat by the time he reached the factory, but thankfully he made it without anyone seeming to stare too much at him. Certainly no one attempted to stop him.

As he expected for a weekend, the factory car park was completely empty. He parked as close to the front entrance as he could, before hurrying inside, letting himself in with the spare keys he had fortunately remembered to pick up before leaving his house. He hunched over as he walked, keeping his head looking down towards the concrete.

Once inside, he was able to relax a little more, but he still didn’t undress at all. It was rare anyone worked over the weekend, but he wanted to minimise the risk of being seen like this as much as he could.

Now he was here though, Simon wasn’t sure just what he could do. He didn’t know what had triggered the transformation, and he had no idea how to reverse it. Idly wandering through the facility, he soon found his way through to the giant, eerily quiet factory floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the pool of spilled liquid latex from the previous night, but it didn’t appear to have grown much bigger.

But for the squeak of latex, only the echo of his shoes against the concrete floor filled the silence as Simon took his first few steps onto the factory floor, but that was suddenly broken by the loud screech of an alarm. He spun around on the spot, trying to find the alarm source, and any way to switch it off, but found neither.

“Unauthorised toy on floor. Unauthorised toy on floor.”

The voice boomed out from the speakers from up near the distant roof. It was an automated voice, electronic and emotionless. Simon looked around, trying to find what had aggravated the bodiless voice. Had one of the toys the factory produced fallen from the conveyors? He couldn’t see anything on the floor that didn’t belong, but for the spill of liquid latex.

He took a couple of steps further into the factory floor, before he heard the whirring of machines springing to life. He glanced up to the ceiling, which had become a hive of activity. The factory was waking up, the fully automated systems springing to activity, but Simon still wasn’t sure why.

Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw some movement approaching him. He had time to half turn before he was grabbed by a robotic claw, the pincers squeezing around his waist, trapping his arms by his side. Despite his struggles, he wasn’t able to free his arms and he was lifted up off the ground as though he weighed nothing at all, the movement sending his glasses tumbling from his face.

Suspended in mid air, Simon was held in front of a long metallic arm with what looks like a couple of cameras and scanners embedded into the end. It looks over him, and Simon got the feeling he was being analysed... assessed. Like the thing was intelligent. He sucked in his breath and tried not to struggle too much. Just what sort of technology were they using in here?

“Extraneous fabric discovered. Initiating removal process.”

“No wait, stop!” Simon cried out, finding his voice again, but he may as well have said nothing at all. An array of slender arms shot out towards him and tugged and pulled at his clothes, literally ripping them from his body. The pincer around his waist loosened slightly, but only enough to liberate him of his clothes, and not allowing his arms free. “Come on, that was my favourite shirt,” he protested, before his voice was drowned out by the booming, droning voice of the machine.

“Extraneous fabric removed. Initiating conversion process subroutine Kudroj.”

“Conversion process? What does that mean? What’s Kudroj? Let me go! Cease! Stop! Cancel order!”

Nothing Simon said made any impression on the machine, and he shrieked in surprise as the claw squeezing into him suddenly moved. He was whisked away to another part of the factory and placed down on a conveyor belt. Instantly, metal hoops shot up and wrapped around his ankles, preventing him from lifting his legs and escaping, even after the claw released its hold on his belly.

As soon as he was freed, he crouched down and tugged on the shackles around his ankles, but he couldn’t find any way to loosen them. He was completely trapped.

The belt started to move, carrying Simon off to whatever fate the machines had for him. He still struggled, but it was more of a hopeless wiggle now. He couldn’t get his feet free, no matter what he tried. There was a fork in the conveyor belt, one to the left and one to the right. His position was shifted by the ankle cuffs, forced down the path to the right.

“Initiating digitigrade manipulation.”

Simon’s arms were pulled up by two grasping pincers, dragging them to the side and forcing him to stand upright. At the same time, the belt dropped away above a pool of bubbling liquid latex in one of the many vats of the viscous liquid scattered through the facility. He grimaced and kicked his legs as he felt himself get slowly lowered down towards the vat, but the machines were relentless in their movement.

The latex was hot to the touch, and as he was dipped in beyond his knees he felt the lower part of his legs start to soften. It was getting harder to move them, and by the time he was submerged to his waist he could barely move below the hips at all.

“What’s going on?” Simon cried out, tugging his arms on the restraints that held him suspended over the latex. There was no give at all, and it was only a few more seconds before he was fully submerged, his head dipping beneath the surface and plunging his senses into darkness. Even the sounds of the whirring, clanking machinery fell to near silence.

After a few moments, he was lifted back up into the air. Liquid latex slowly dripped from his body, but mostly the hot liquid clung to his skin. He could barely move, forced to just hang limply as he was carried away from the massive pool of latex. Two deep, hollow metallic shells were placed beneath his legs. He frowned as he looked down at them, trying to work out their purpose. The outsides had some shapes engraved in them, but from his angle, Simon couldn’t see just what they were.

Slowly, Simon was lowered down again. One leg went in each container, positioned so his hips were just above the metal lip.

“Preparing mould.”

The robotic voice gave Simon enough context to know just what was about to happen, but he was helpless to prevent it. His legs still didn’t work, no matter how panicked he became in tugging on his wrist bonds. A loud hiss of steam erupted from the side of the two containers, which he now knew to be moulds, and with a deafening clamp they smashed together and seemingly crushed his legs.

Simon yelled in shock, taking a few seconds to realise that he wasn’t actually in pain. Though he didn’t want to, he glanced down with a grimace to see what the damage was. His hips seemed to end in a black smudge on top of the two moulds, clamped tight around his legs. Somehow though, he could still feel beneath them, feeling the cold metal pressing into the mess they had made of his legs. Mercifully, they hadn’t caught his cock as well, with that precious appendage dangling down between the two moulds.

Just as he was beginning to wonder how long he was going to be kept there, he felt the moulds suddenly turn ice-cold, freezing and solidifying his legs back up again. Then the moulds pulled away and Simon got a look at just what they had done.

Instead of feet, Simon possessed paws now, there was no denying that. Four toed and webbed, they were crooked into a digitigrade stance. Certainly no longer human. He tried wiggling his new toes, finding he could do so without any trouble, stretching the small flaps of webbing between them.

Distracted by his new paws, Simon didn’t pay any attention as he was carried away once more. This time he wasn’t dipped into anything, but he was placed back down on a new conveyor belt and his ankles bound by shackles. Even restrained, he swayed as he struggled to find his balance on his paws, all of his weight settling down on his thick, padded toes.

“Initiating sexual reconfiguration process. Default option selected.”

“Initiating what?” Simon yelped, starting to struggle again, but with his hands and paws all restricted, he couldn’t do anything as the conveyor belt started to move him forward. It led him to a thick metal plate suspended at about crotch height, and was grooved in the shape of a person’s hips. Another mould.

As much as he tried to squirm, Simon was helpless in the grip of the machines as his crotch was inserted into the mould, another plate dropping down behind him to press against his rump. Whereas his legs had been crushed instantly, now it was a slow, gradual squeeze as the two plates came together. He could feel his body shifting, the softened latex being manipulated by the hard, unyielding metallic plates.

The two plates came together with a loud clang and held that way for a few seconds before sending a cold chill through Simon’s body. When they came away, the changes were less drastic compared to his paws, but there was one important thing missing.

“What did you do with my cock?” Simon whimpered, his crotch now completely smooth with no evidence of his cock or balls at all. There was barely a bulge to speak of. He wanted to rub it, to feel that there was something left of his genitals, but the machines weren’t giving him any chance to recover. The belt yanked him back, before he was shifted onto a new course.

As he moved, a thick wedge of solid latex was moved behind him. Though he tried to twist his head, Simon wasn’t able to see what was happening, not until he felt a fierce heat against his rump and some firm pressure was applied. As the heat faded and the pressure was taken away, a strange weight hung down from his rear. He didn’t even need to look back to know what it was. A tail. He had a tail. What was more, he could already feel it, a few twitches confirming that it could even be moved.

“Tail bonded successfully. Full motion and sensation achieved.”

His tail proved to be another distraction, and before he knew what was happening, both his hands were inserted into a pair of heavy, metal mitts. The bonds around his wrists dropped away, and weighed down by the mitts, his hands fell down to his side. He struggled to move his arms, but his latex body was still soft and weak, and he could only sway them from side to side.

He gritted his teeth together as the mitts first started to heat up, then cooled dramatically. He could feel his hands changing inside, but the outside of the mitts was spherical, giving no indication as to what they’d look like when the mitt opened.

“Dextrous handpaws selected.”

With a click, the mitts opened and were pulled away, revealing paws that weren’t too dissimilar to his footpaws. His fingers were short and stubby, and were joined together by a thin flap of webbing between each digit. He stared at them, mesmerised by the changes that had taken place in his body, before, with a sudden deafening clang, everything went dark.

Simon didn’t have chance to yell. His newly changed hands lifted up, feeling the big metal box that had slammed around his head. He couldn’t speak or hear anything as his fingers clawed uselessly at the metal, unable to find any purchase to prise it open. Then he started to feel dizzy as his head felt like it was melting... flowing through the small gaps inside the box. It felt like it was elongating in places, other parts shifting around to new locations.

Completely disorientated, Simon stumbled as the cuffs around his ankles fell away. He swayed back and forth for a few seconds before he felt himself get lifted back up into the air. His legs kicked out, tail swishing as his hands clung desperately onto the box around his head. He could feel his neck stretching out a bit as the weight of his body pulled down on it.

Unsure where he was being taken, Simon couldn’t help but let out a scream of shock as the box suddenly opened. He fell through the air, before landing quite abruptly and bouncing slightly.

In an instant, he spun up to his feet and wobbled on the unfamiliar positioning of his feet, before glancing around to take stock of where he had been placed. There were four walls all around him, but above was exposed and open to the distant ceiling. Strange nozzles were situated at various points on the walls, the purpose of which Simon couldn’t work out.

Bright light suddenly gleamed out from one wall, and Simon was forced to shield his eyes with one arm. As the light faded, it revealed a mirrored surface so he was able to cast eyes upon his form for the first time. He gasped and put his hands on his muzzle, for he had one of those now.

He stared and tilted his head to the side, swishing his tail behind him as he inspected his body. Otter, was the first thing that came to mind. His head and muzzle were the right shape for it, and the webbed flaps of skin between his fingers and toes confirmed that theory. Even his ears had moved, migrating up to the top of his head. He pawed at the rounded appendages that poked out from between the swirling locks of rubbery hair that had adorned his head. Somehow, he had been turned into a latex otter. A null latex otter. His hands grasped at his crotch, but there was nothing there. No cock, no balls. They weren’t even hidden inside, there was simply a null patch. Things hadn’t gotten better – they were even worse now!

“Species conversion process complete. Initiating cosmetics and colouration.”

“No! Revert process! Undo! Go back!”

Once more, Simon’s commands fell on deaf ears. Assuming there were any ears to listen to in the first place. Instead, something started to whirr and spin, a noise coming from all around him. The nozzles on the walls started to move, aiming right for him.

“What’s going on?” he yelped, spinning around and trying to find some way to escape.

Instead of an answer, a fine mist started to emerge from the nozzles, spraying and filling the small container. It clung to his latex skin, staining him and slowly starting to paint him different colours. A pattern started to emerge, even his spinning around didn’t seem to distort it from the intended colours.

His belly and the underside of his tail was painted a deep blue, the colour even getting onto his pawpads as they lifted up from the floor. The pads of his hands were orange, and he got a couple of stripes of orange around his tail and wrists, as well as his tongue and the long locks of hair that swirled around his ears. The rest of his body remained a gleaming black.

The mist slowly faded away and Simon was left to stare at his newly painted body. He rubbed at the colours, but it was already dried and didn’t smear at all. He tensed his fingers then pressed at his muzzle, getting a feel for the strange protrusion on the end of his face. That would take a lot of getting used to. He took a step back and trod on his tail, his footpaw compressing into the thick limb. Stumbling, he fell back and bounced off the cold metal floor.

“Auditory response required. Proceed with final procedure?”

“If it changes me back to human, then yes! Change me back!” Simon called out to the bodiless machine.

“Positive response confirmed. Final procedure initiated.”

A sharp pain jabbed into the base of Simon’s neck. He reached up his fingers fumbling up his back until he found a piece of metal buried into him. He traced it back and glanced up, finding it attached to a long hose that descended all the way from the ceiling.

The hose bulged almost comically as it started to pump something into Simon, stretching his latex skin a little as he was filled by a warm fluid. It spread through his body, bloating him out and making every movement slow and clumsy. He was sure he could hear himself sloshing, as though there was nothing but a hollow chamber within him that was being filled by the warm liquids.

Slowly rising to his feet, he felt the hose tugging and stretching at his neck. His legs sagged as the weight of his body pressed down on them, the latex around his knees creasing and nearly crumpling. Everything felt soft to his hands as he slowly rubbed over his body.

His hands soon made their way to his crotch, where he gave himself another firm grope in the hope that something had returned. Though it felt sensitive as he squeezed, there was still no sign of his cock at all. His fingers dimpled deep into his null crotch, like he was squishing into a gel beneath the latex skin.

“Interior liquefaction completed. Initiating removal.”

Brought from his reverie by the voice, Simon quickly moved his hands from his crotch, instead reaching for the hose in his neck as the flow into his body ceased. He tried to tug on it, but as he did so he felt a strange sense of weakness rushing through his body. The hose started to suck, and as he watched, his paws looked like they were beginning to deflate as the fluid in them started to drain away. He jerked forward, feeling unsteady as he wobbled on his toes.

“No, stop. Don’t do this,” Simon said quietly, his voice sinking to a mutter as he dropped down to his knees, his legs giving way. From his knees he sunk down to lie on his belly, his limbs crumpling as the fluids inside him was slowly sucked up through the tube in his neck.

As he struggled to move, a blade sunk down through his back, tearing open his skin from neck to the base of his tail. Though he could feel it, it somehow didn’t hurt at all, feeling only a little liquid dribbling down onto his tail.

Unable to move at all, Simon was reduced down to little more than a latex otter skin, sheared open at the back. He couldn’t even twitch a finger without anything filling his body, but the machines weren’t finished with him yet. Almost tenderly, he was picked up by a few robotic tendrils. One grabbed each limb and stretched him out into a mockery of standing. His head drooped down, flopped flat over his chest and obscuring his vision. He could feel little pricks into his back, running all up the slice they had made in him, but he couldn’t be sure what they were doing.

His limbs bulged as something was stuffed inside them, and slowly Simon started to feel movement returning to his extremities. He couldn’t twist free from the tendrils wrapped around him, but he could wiggle his fingers and toes as they puffed up with some foamy substance that was wedged inside his latex skin.

Another prick stabbed against his neck, and the latex otter felt something injected just beneath the surface. He wanted to clap his hand over it, but they were still restricted in their movements and he could do little more than twitch his fingers.

“Welcome, Kudroj.”

“That’s not my name,” Simon muttered.

“Welcome, Kudroj.”

The otter’s body shuddered as the prodding robotic arms were withdrawn at last. His body was complete, but now he could feel the machines’ interference in his mind. They rewrote his thoughts and his memories. He had once been human, he knew that still, but why would he ever want to return back to that boring state? And his name. He had claimed his name wasn’t Kudroj, but that wasn’t right, was it? It was... it was... did it begin with an s? That didn’t sound right.

His eyes twitched and he slowly crawled up to his knees.

“I am... Kudroj?” he asked at last, his mind accepting the fact that that was indeed his name.

“You are Kudroj. Please wait for staff assistance. Your conversion is now complete.”

Kudroj slowly rubbed his hands over his muzzle before he stood up on two wobbly paws. He reached behind him, feeling over the slice they had made in his back. His hands brushed against something metallic. He twisted his head around as much as he could, just catching sight of the gleam of a new zipper track.

The otter gasped and held his hands over his mouth. He wasn’t just a latex otter. He was a suit! He slowly slipped his fingers inside himself, feeling the thick, padded foam filling that gave him the ability to stand and move. He was sure it would feel delightfully tight on anyone who wore him. He shivered at that thought and gripped at his smooth, null crotch.

“All staff are currently unavailable. Please wait for automated storage solutions.”

“What’s that then?” Kudroj muttered to himself, before letting out a surprised squawk as something hooked into the open zip in his back. He was hauled back into the air, his limbs dangling limp as he was whisked away to someplace new. It gave the otter suit a strange thrill to feel something buried deep inside his back, but it was cold and hard. He wanted something warm, something living. A person. Someone to fill his legs and arms, maybe even a cock to press against the inside of his null crotch.

A small door opened up and the otter suit was deposited inside a small storage room. Stacks of boxes rose almost to the ceiling on one side, while the other wall was a massive rack with latex suits of various creatures hanging limply.

The door closed behind him, and Kudroj could clearly hear the snick of a lock sealing him inside, though the darkness remained for only a few seconds. Lights flickered on, and movement followed just after. One by one, the suits removed themselves from their hangers and approached, their squeaky, creaky movements joined by joyous expressions of welcome.

The fellow otters greeted Kudroj first, slinked over him and teasing their soft hands inside his cavity. Many looked almost identical to him, though some had different colourations or patterns, and others lacked digits on their paws and hands, instead possessing smoothed nubs.

There were so many of them, and all slunk and squeaked against him, their hushed voices almost conspiratorial as they writhed all over the otter. They explored his new body with him, rubbing and grinding in a manner that would have been sexual had there been a single cock amongst them, but every single one of the suits were all null. The only things phallic were the stacks of dildo toys held in storage with them, but those all went unused, not needed by the squeaking suits.

Kudroj was in bliss as he hugged and kissed and teased all his new friends. They welcomed him to his new body, to his new life as a squeaky latex otter suit.

When the week began anew and the humans realised there was a new suit in their inventory, questions could be asked. But until then there was just Kudroj and the other suits.

And he enjoyed every last moment of it.