You're not sure how, but you can feel that whatever has been animating the suit is on it's last legs. Unfortunately, those legs are also your legs, and you feel it gather it's energy for a final push. Your duck legs start walking back towards the door. You try to grab onto something to stop yourself, but your new wing-hands are so light and feathery that they can't solidly grip onto anything. You watch with dread as you walk up to the door and uncontrollably start opening the lock. For a moment, it looks like the duck will be as stymied as you were by the lack of proper fingers, but using both hands it manages to flip the lock and open the door for the waiting torso. If a torso could give a sadistic grind, this one would be, and you close your eyes as it leaps at you and closes around you. Now that you're fully covered, you wait for the suit to take over you completely, like you saw happen to the poor people last night. However, after a few moments of standing still with your eyes closed in the middle of the hallway, you realize you actually don't feel the suit's control at all. It seems that it really was almost defeated, and getting you fully encased in itself was its last vengeful gasp. You quickly open your eyes and try taking the costume off again, but nothing has changed on that front. In fact, you can feel yourself touching the suit like it's your own body now, which you have a strong suspicion is exactly what it is. You let out a quiet, forlorn quack and look down to see the final changes the suit has made to you.
The most obvious change is that you're now fully covered by the black latex. You run your wings across it and give a shiver at the strange, slick feeling of your skin. Although the top half of your chest is still essentially human, your lower half widens out into a chubby shape, which then sweeps out behind you into the "tail" of a duck. Unlike a normal duck, you don't have a bunch of feathers, you're shaped more like a rubber duck than a real one. Your wide tail juts out far enough behind you that you can't quite reach the tip of it, no matter how you twist around. Trying to move around reveals another new issue: your legs don't come out the bottom of the suit's torso. Instead, they come out slightly from the side of the suit, widening your stance and making you stand in a slight squat. You try to take a few steps and find that, with your legs forced apart, you have to walk by waddling your legs one at a time, which also makes your tail swing back and forth behind you. Your walking practice ends up with you slamming your new tail into the wall several times, and no matter what you try, you can't find a way to move around that isn't awkward-looking. You're pretty sure the suit wasn't originally this exaggerated. The duck must have gotten it's revenge for you dismissing it as weak by making you look as silly as it could manage.
Your inspection complete, you wonder what to do next. You can't go outside like this, you look humiliating, and who knows if there's more of those latex creatures out there. Besides, you're technically naked, you should at least get some clothes on...your eyes widen as you realize what you've been missing about the changes. You're naked but you don't feel exposed. You didn't have a dick! In a panic, you start feeling around your crotch, hoping that you'd somehow just missed your genitals. You slide your feathers all over your bulbous lower body, even feeling underneath you where you can reach, but you can't find anything down there. Everything about you is smooth. However, as you rub across where your crotch should be, you start feeling your arousal building up. At first you ignore it, but as you rub more, you start to feel more and more horny. Your whole crotch area is incredibly sensitive to touch, and soon you're rubbing yourself simply to try and get off. Your arousal builds and builds, but without any penis, you find yourself frustratingly unable to orgasm. Your fingers aren't cutting it, and you squat down and start rubbing yourself against the rug in a haze. It succeeds in feeling amazing but it utterly fails to bring an end to your denial. You find yourself lost in a haze, letting out little aroused quacks as you grind your way across the rug, then grabbing a pillow and humping into it, then moving onto a chair, anything to try and get off. A more rational part of your brain knows the attempt is futile, but you can't manage to pull yourself away from your dry humping. You just hope nobody comes in to see you looking like this.