Some time later you are still floating helplessly around in the pool of liquid latex, your huge dildo-penis rigidly protruding out and leading the way as you drift hither and yon in the slight currents. Without legs to paddle or even arms, all you can do is slowly and laboriously propel yourself with your wing tips, which is a slow and tedious, and ultimately futile, process. Your arousal level doesn't really subside, and while there is little you can do about it, you do eventually more or less manage to get used to it enough that you can ALMOST ignore it.
Almost.
Every now and then you rub a wing tip over your fused beak in the vain hope that perhaps it will somehow unseal itself, but to no avail. Similarly wishing for your legs to miraculously reappear, even as the bizarre and deformed duck-flippered things they had been, has no effect.
So you float there, unable to do more than vaguely direct your course and occasionally bouncing off the sides with your dildo twanging into the wall with a blast of pleasure. Better than pain, but not as much as you'd like.
A sound from behind you makes you turn your head and bend your still-humanoid-ish torso around as much as you can to locate the source, while sculling with a wing to turn around. Standing on the edge of the pool is another rubber creature, not the cat from before or the wolf himself, but what seems to be a female fox, apparently a teenager as far as you can tell. Perhaps thirteen or fourteen, you think, although she was well developed with large breasts on a slender body. There was just something about her vulpine features that gave the impression of youth.
"Hi, Ducky," she said brightly, waving at you. The voice was also female, young, and chirpy. Beckoning she added, "Come over here!"
Wishing you could, or even speak to tell her you couldn't do much more that direct your slow and almost aimless movements, you shook your head and made a shrugging motion with your wings. She studied you, before walking around the pool. Turning your head to follow her progress you drifted around in a circle, your wings giving just enough impetus to allow this although it was slow.
"What's wrong, Ducky?" she asked when she reached her original position. It took several seconds more before you did the same to face her. "Just swim over here. Please?"
You attempted to convey via a strange and not very effective form of wing-based charades that it was more than a little difficult to swim anywhere with no legs and wings that barely reached the liquid you were floating in unless you bent at the waist. She cocked her head to the side like a cat staring at a bird in a tree, watching, then sighed loudly. "I don't get it, Ducky. Is something wrong with your legs?"
You nod.
"Oh." She cocked her head in the other direction, seeming sad and curious. "What's wrong with them?"
Again you wave your wings. She shakes her head after a while.
"Sorry, I can't work out what you mean." She studied you as you floated there watching her, wondering if she was as innocent as her voice and demeanour suggested. After all, she was still one of the bizarre rubber freaks that had transformed you, just like that wolf. Even if she looked and sounded like a young girl, you probably shouldn't trust her. But the short diversion was at least welcome as it distracted you from boredom and unrequitable arousal.
After a while, during which she seemed to think hard, she appeared to get an idea. "Daddy will know what to do," she announced happily, her dark orange rubber fox features lighting up. Turning, she dashed towards the entrance to the room the pool was in, shouting, "Daddy! Come help me! I want to play with Ducky but his legs don't work!"
The young fox creature vanished from sight but you could hear her voice fading somewhere else in the building.
Daddy?
Weird.
Not entirely certain what had just happened you returned your attention to your predicament after the short diversion from the fox girl. There didn't seem to be anything you could do about it, you again decided with worry and irritation. Bending down you tried paddling once more, the results showing that nothing had improved in that area. Progress was slow and erratic to the point of near uselessness.
Some time later you hear voices, while you're bobbing along close to one edge of the pool having eventually reached it and attempted one more time to figure out some way to escape the confines of the liquid with no result. Looking up you spot the fox girl again, who runs into the room and points at you. "See, Daddy? He's just floating there. I want to play with him but I don't want to get wet."
'Daddy' comes in moments later and your heart, or whatever you have in there now, jumps.
It's the wolf.
Of course it is.
You realise that it's fairly likely that the fox girl isn't actually his daughter, may well not even be a young girl or at least not have started that way, and might not have started as a girl at all. But she certainly seems to think of him as her father as she bounces eagerly alongside his much taller form as he approaches, a smirk on his rubber muzzle. He stops at the edge of the pool, looking down at you, then turns to his 'Daughter.'
"You want to play with... Ducky... hmm, do you?" he asks with a smile at the girl.
"Yes please," she replies eagerly. "He's cute. Fix his legs, Daddy."
"He might run away."
She shook her head. "he'll be good and stay here and play with me, I'm sure."
"So am I," the wolf chuckled as he reached down and grabbed you under the wings, heaving you out onto the floor with a thump as your underside slapped down heavily. You found yourself sitting there immobile as the girl dashed over and hugged you around the torso, bewildered by what was happening now. She looked at your huge dildo and giggled, making both you and the wolf also look. He seemed amused.
Your feelings were difficult to put into words, but amused certainly wasn't one of the ones you'd have picked.
"All right, stand back and I'll... fix... his legs," the wolf said to the young fox, who let go and stepped away, watching with interest. You felt trepidation at the expression he was wearing, it showed a certain amount of malicious mischievousness that boded ill. Based on his past performance you somehow didn't entirely believe that he was going to restore your legs.
"I just need to roll him over," the wolf went on, doing exactly that, and manhandling your rubber duck body like it was a toy. Moments later you found yourself upside down and disorientated. Feeling his hands on your underside, you sense the unpleasantly familiar feelings of whatever it is he did to change you the first times happening again, and more than that, can feel something in your legs. They do indeed feel like they're reappearing.
"Oh, clever, Daddy," the fox squealed. "Thank you!"
"It's my pleasure," the wolf said with a certain amount of tenderness as he picked you up again and spun you around once more until you were upright, your vision trying to make sense of the rapid motion. "I just need to do this too..." While he was holding you in the air, you felt something change on your back, in several places, then he put you on your feet.
Feet.
You look down, seeing your underside was now at least two feet off the floor, then up at the wolf, who has stepped back and is watching you curiously. Beside him the fox girl is clapping her hands in glee. "He's perfect, Daddy," she said with enormous pleasure.
"I thought you'd like him," 'Daddy' replied. "Enjoy him. I'll leave you to it, I have work to do now." Patting her head he smirked at you then turned and left.
Cautiously studying the fox, you see she's still looking at you with a pleased expression. Glancing back at the exit you can see no sign of the wolf. This is your chance.
You run for it. Or waddle.
Or, as it happens... Do neither.
What actually happens is that you find yourself barely moving, only tilting forward a little then recoiling back to your original position, standing a few feet from the pool facing it. Puzzled and worried you try lifting one foot.
Nothing happens.
Neither does lifting the other foot work. Nor does trying to bend your knees, or anything else to do with your legs. All you manage is a small twitch once or twice.
What's going on?
You can feel your feet on the floor, where they've been resting since the wolf put you down. Oddly they seem to cover more area than you expected but that's presumably due to possessing those stupid webbed duck feet again, you think. But you can't move them at all, or not that you come to think about it, separate them either. In fact, it feels like they're pressed tightly together, far more tightly together than they SHOULD be able to be if they were the legs this changed body of yours had possessed a fairly short while ago.
Like they were, in fact, closer together than they should even be if you had your original human body, for that matter...
Once again, you try to move, with no luck.
The fox girl, who is watching you with a smile, says, "Is Ducky trying to move?"
You nod, turning to look at her.
"Here you go," she says, covering the six feet between you and her, then standing behind you. She reaches out and you feel the most bizarre sensation yet as she grabs something, two somethings, on your elongated back and pulls.
Your sealed beak stifling what would be a shout of surprise, you find yourself looking upwards as your body tilts nearly forty five degrees backwards, and wave your wings instinctively trying to steady yourself. Oddly enough you can feel your feet still flat on the floor, like they were stuck there, but your legs seem to be bending like...
Like rubber.
Just as you come to that realization, she lets go.
With a squeak being the only external sign of your shock, you twang forwards and bend nearly as far in that direction as you did backwards, almost to the point that your dildo hits the concrete, then slow and stop, before rebounding back again. Once more you find yourself looking upwards, then your viewpoint moves rapidly forwards again.
The process repeats over and over, each time slightly less, until you are wobbling back and forth a few inches and trying not to cry in horror, even if you actually could now.
You realize what the wolf did, and when you come to a halt, bend down as far as you can and manage to look under yourself.
You don't have legS. You have A leg.
There is only one protrusion from your underside, which comes from roughly the middle of your duck torso underside and goes the two feet to the floor as a single flexible column several inches thick like, based on your movements, a heavy duty spring. The bottom of it which your mind insists on sensing as your feet is in actuality a two foot diameter round object that bears a distinct resemblance to a huge suction cup, which would appear to be adhering tightly to the surface under you and holding you firmly in place.
Straightening up you twist around as far as you can and see that your sloping duck torso back now has a sort of saddle shape moulded into it between your tilted up tail and your upright human torso. Furthermore there are two distinct handles sticking out of your rubbery rump near the back, forming a flat U shape on either side that the fox had obviously used to set you in motion.
That fucking wolf had turned you into a children's ride-on toy like something from a playground and anchored you to the ground. There was even less chance of escape like this than in your previously legless and floating state. As you come to that sinking conclusion, the fox girl strokes your head tenderly. "We're going to have so much fun, Ducky! And like Daddy said you won't be mean and run off now."
With one last stroke she moves to the side, then jumps onto your back. Your fixed in place body wobbles under the sudden load, tilting forward then rebounding, as she makes herself comfortable. Her feet are placed on footrests you abruptly notice, having missed them before, which protrude from each side, and she reaches up to your human torso's back and actually puts her hands INSIDE you, grabbing more handles that were moulded into where your shoulder blades should have been.
With a shout of glee, she pulls back, then pushed forward, forcing your single spring-like leg to bend and your body to start rocking back and forth. Flapping your rubbery wings in protest and making the little squeaks that are all that will escape your sealed beak, you tilt forward and back over and over, your enormous dildo flexing and bouncing in time to your movements, as the fox girl on your back rides you and laughs.
You think with dismay that perhaps floating in a pool wasn't so bad after all.