Morgan watched as the lioness fell behind, her white rubber body shining in the sun.
The goth girl pulled in a bar parking lot. They wouldn't be open for hours yet, but she knew her best friend Emma would be there already. 'Purgatory' had been Emma's father's biker bar, but Emma and her older sister had made it their own and brought it upscale as the area gentrified. High end food and drink - with a BDSM theme. The result was a bar as unusual as Emma herself.
Emma's defining characteristics were her hair and her height. A towering six foot four inches tall, her copper red hair fell long and straight down to mid thigh. A supercharged metabolism kept her rail thin, practically a human scarecrow. She kept her hair super long to draw attention away from her lanky build.
Morgan and Emma had been friends since childhood. Their friendship had endured teenage Morgan coming out to Emma, and confessing her love, and Emma's politely turning her down as she just wasn't into girls.
Emma was alone, inventorying the liquor in the empty bar. Despite it being hours until opening, the redhead was dressed for working in character that evening. She wore a tight copper colored rubber tube top (nicely matching her hair), her toned midriff bare. A black leather skirt went to mid thigh. Her hair hung behind her in a thick pony tail, three black leather bands with silver studs adorned the long copper rope of hair. She was barefoot right now, but knee high black boots with heavy silver buckles sat on the bar for later. Morgan's latex fetish was definitely a result of Emma's influence, the redhead loved the bar as an excuse to dress like this in public. In their college days, they had bartended here together; the little goth girl and the towering redhead being nicknamed 'Smoke' and 'Fire' by their regulars.
'Hey Fire!' Morgan greeted as she let herself in, she still had a set of keys.
Emma turned around in surprise. 'Hey yourself! Shouldn't you be at work?'
Morgan hopped up on a barstool and grinned. 'I'm done with that. Done with working and responsibilities all together. Soon to be done with doubting, worrying, and my inner demons too.'
Emma's eyes widened, she knew her friend all too well. 'You didn't! You're... are you sure? How could you know, they're aren't any tests that work.'
Morgan leaned in to tell the whole story. She could also see the hunger in Emma's eyes. If Cat Scratch Fever created actual furries, emphasis on fur, Emma wouldn't have cared much. But it created living latex anthros, nymphomaniac ones at that. With her fetish, that was an 11 out of 10 for sexiness.
By the time Morgan finished, Emma was breathing heavily. The goth girl put the water bottle on the bar, the little scrap of skin swirling inside.
Emma picked it up and put her hand on the cap. "You know I have to do this."
Morgan smiled. 'I know. I also know you'll have to 'scratch' that itch right away. I was going to see how far I could spread infections before doing that myself, but I think this might be it for me too. We both win; you get rubber forever, and I get to have you attracted to me. And we both get each other.'
Emma smiled and took a swig of the infected water. She waited.
'I don't feel any different. I guess I always thought somehow I'd know it.'
She pulled a stiletto from a sheath inside her boot, and put a full bottle of bourbon on the bar.
'Time to scratch that itch and have a real coming out party!"