For a while all you can really do is just sit there, gawking at your poor hand. This isn't exactly a common occurrence for you. It'll take a bit to wrap your mind around. The rather odd, probably very irreversible change to your... Well, paw is a lot to take in. Latex monsters can wait, suddenly this seems a good deal more important. After you've had your fill of shock, and are finally completely satisfied that yes, this has really happened, you are left with many questions. One of them in particular, however, stands out in your mind, towering over all of the rest. "What now?" it says, demanding an answer. Medical help seems like an obvious choice, at least at first... But what exactly is that going to accomplish? You can already see it, getting rushed into the emergency room only to have a technician tell you that yes, indeed, your hand is now a latex footpaw, and there isn't anything they can really do about that. Maybe a few aspirin and a nice, large bill, as well as a followup appointment to collect. And this is also assuming that emergency services are even still functioning, you have no clue as to the state of society considering the pools of infectious latex filling the street, as well as the rubber beasts that seem to be preying on pedestrians. And that's only what you've seen personally, anything and everything could be happening out there right now. With everything you've seen and experienced, you find that you truly believe that for once.
There is also another option, alluring in it's appeal to your base instincts to run the fuck away from things that you do not understand. Like puddles that turn your hands into rubber animal feet. It sounds pretty nice about now too, actually. This is until you look back at the foot that originally got you into all of this, thoroughly uncovered, leaving soft, vulnerable flesh exposed to all of the horrors of the modern world. Already it feels quite sore just from standing on the road for so long. It'd be a reasonable distance back to the safety of home from here, at least it is when you take into account that you have a bare foot. Even more when you figure in mutagenic latex and avaricious creatures that want to do... Stuff. To you. You don't think you can run very far like this.
While you are thinking your gaze keeps wandering back to the now-placid pink puddle, eyeing it warily as though it were a snake about to strike. This is when a stray thought sneaks it's way into your mind, offering a hitherto unconsidered option. Experiment. It takes a few moments to comprehend, but as you finally begin to take note it manages to completely upend all your other thoughts in it's insanity. It already took your hand! The thing is a menace, something to be feared! It's absolutely crazy to even consider even going near the thing again...! And yet something about it fascinates some deep, obscure territory deep within your mind. You've never heard of anything like this, let alone encountered it firsthand. It defies all of those comforting beliefs you've long held regarding matters of possibility, of nature, of reality. It seems dangerous, yet also somehow... Enticing. It's as if it's calling to you, inciting an instinctive thirst to know. To master. To... Feel. These thoughts lay the seeds of desires, then morph into compulsions, and finally contort into obsession. Deep. compelling. Overwhelming. These new thoughts begin to work at eating away at your doubts, your concerns, your insecurities. There is only one way to discover more about what's happening, and that's to confront it. As long as you're careful, you'll be safe. As these thoughts take root, you do not consider they might not entirely be of your creation. And besides, it's not like you'll be able to make it home limping over concrete on a possibly-sprained unprotected foot.
It's this last thought that acts as a sort of trigger once again. You look at your foot, and then back at the puddle, your mind starting to formulate a rather ill-advised suggestion. Internal voices of logic and reason try to intervene, but are soon removed from the discussion. You don't even think on the issue too hard at this point. You are just acting on urges. You walk back up to the edge of the puddle, cautiously, yet with a degree of determination. Slowly you bring your foot over the pool, which almost seem to glow under the reflected light, but is otherwise perfectly calm. For a moment you hesitate, though eventually you start to push your leg into the puddle, in up to the ankle. You feel a small shock as the skin makes contact with the rubber, as well as a chill that spreads through your body as the liquid swallows up your foot. It doesn't seem violent this time, though. Instead it just behaves like, well, goo. It feels cold, slimy, and sticky as opposed to the last time. Once again the entrapped flesh starts to feel tight, tingling and numbing, though this time the puddle seems to offer little resistance. It doesn't have to. You stand there, awkwardly, the relative tranquility giving your rational side the opportunity to make a comeback, kicking and screaming as it harshly admonishes you mentally for subjecting yourself to this once again, and knowingly too. It starts to quiet down as you are distracted by the sudden return in sensation in your submerged foot, though once again it feels foreign, though at once somehow familiar too.
You begin to pull your leg back out of the puddle, which rather contentedly releases you without any qualms. What rises out of the rubbery liquid looks like a blob at first, a large amount of the liquid latex covering it, though as you lift it higher the fluid trickles away back into the puddle like water, revealing... Another shiny, rubbery paw. Though this one is quite dissimilar to the one now at the end of your arm. It looks smaller, shorter, more delicate. More dexterous. And unlike your hand it's also managed to keep all of it's digits, though not without significant changes. Most of the toes and now rather long, and each has three joints, offering them a good degree of flexibility. Your big toe, meanwhile, seems to have changed the most drastically. It's now the smallest of the bunch, barely a quarter of the size of the others in terms of length when placed together. It seems to have repositioned as well, drawing further back and to the side, and is now opposable with the other digits. You try flexing tentatively flexing them, finding that they have a far greater range of movement than before, but it's difficult to take advantage of, as you are not used to such a degree of finesse there. Once again they squeak as they rub together, and just like before each is topped with a dark red claw.
The result is immediately apparent, even moreso than the last one. You identified the change the very moment you lifted your former foot out of the puddle. It's a hand. Or, rather... Some sort of mix between an animal's forepaw and a human hand, attached to your leg by a wrist. You should be shocked but you feel like you somehow expected this. As you place it back on the cold, hard, rough surface of the street a few more things become apparent. For a start, it feels rather strange standing on a hand. Not as much as you'd expect, however. Splaying the fingers gives you some support, enough to stay standing at least. Furthermore, however, it doesn't hurt as much as this did with your unclothed foot. The rubber that now comprises the limb seems much more durable than flesh. You can still feel every little detail in the surface perfectly, but it isn't painful in the slightest. You sit down in order to examine this further. Bringing your leg into your lap, you hold what was once your foot in your lap, grasping it in your unchanged hand in order to look closer. Just like the other paw, the latex is white, though it seems to have some iridescent qualities, and you feel like you can detect a hint of pink as you turn it over under the streetlamp above. It also seems to lack any sort of indication that would leave anyone to believe that it was once part of a living organism. It feels like solid rubber, though does posses a certain strange warmth to it. You find that your former sole, now palm, also has soft, cushy pink pawpads, as does each finger tip. It feels so weird to play with it in your hand, locking the fingers together, rubbing them, squeezing them... Except for the lack of familiarity caused by having a hand there, it seems perfectly functional. You start to lose yourself in thought now. You don't know what to do with this. What can you? It's difficult to reconcile the impulses that are flooding your mind with the more logical parts that are trying their best to fight back. And you've done this to yourself now. As you try to sort all of this out, you don't even notice the feeling of cold and moisture return a few more times. You've become somewhat used to it by now, and the conflicting thoughts seem more important than what your body is doing. At least, it seemed like it was. That was before you realized that now both of your hands are paws, and your feet hands.