Goo. Distinctly yellow.
Sqrrrkkk…
The first drop shivers in response, a ripple running through it like it’s alive. Your breath catches as it begins to move—slowly at first, then faster, slithering and spreading across your chest. It clings to your skin, cool, relentless, and with a startling sense of intent.
It was alive.
And it wanted you.
It ripples again, as if aware of your realization. The chill deepens, seeping into your skin—not just from the substance’s cool touch against your bare skin but from the sheer terror coursing through you. You stare at it, transfixed, as the squelching and squeaking sounds grow louder, echoing through the dark room. They have rhythm now, a sick, wet cadence that drowns out the pounding of your heart – and it’s not coming from the little drop on your chest.
“W-What the hell is this?” you whisper, your voice breaking under the weight of your fear.
Squeeeak... shlunk... glrrrchhh...
Your breathing quickens, shallow and panicked. You glance upward, desperate to locate the source, and your gaze catches on something—a faint, glistening shimmer in the shadows above. It moves, fluid and deliberate, shifting in the darkness like liquid mercury given life.
“No…” The word slips from your lips, barely audible, as the realization hits you too late.
A thick blob of yellow slime plummets from the ceiling in a grotesque cascade. You cry out, but the sound is swallowed as it splashes over your body in a wave of sticky warmth, wrapping itself around you like a living thing – clinging to your skin with a horrifying tenacity.
“Ah—hahh! W-What the—ahhh!”
It’s on you, crawling, claiming, as if every drop of this grotesque substance is fulfilling a singular, terrible purpose.
The viscous substance surges across your chest and stomach, pooling and stretching to cover your torso entirely with a wet shllrp!. Your arms are pinned by its weight as it slithers down to your waist, snuggling itself tightly around your hips like a second skin – then squeezing your hips, almost possessively. The sensation is suffocating, invasive, and above all else – pleasurable.
“W-Why does it feel—hahhh! S-Stop—please!” you protest, but your voice falters as another tendril trails down your back, sending an involuntary shudder through your body. “Nnghh—hahh, I—I can’t—!”
Schlrrrrk…!
It flows further, curling around your thighs and calves with a deliberate, almost teasing touch. Your bare feet twitch as the goo pools at your ankles – stopping there, and leaving them exposed for reasons you can't fathom. The contrast between the sticky confinement and the cool air against your soles sends a shiver down your spine, even as you struggle in vain to free yourself.
“N-No—stop! Get off of me!”
Above, your head and shoulders remain untouched, the only semblance of your humanity laid bare. The rest of your body is encased in the living latex, squeezing, reshaping, and molding you beneath its glossy surface. You strain against the sensations, but the goo clings tighter, as though relishing your futile struggles.
The first cold tendrils of yellow goo slither across your chest, creeping closer to your nipples with deliberate, teasing intent. You squirm, your breath hitching as the slick, rubbery substance seems to pause, almost as if it were savoring the moment…
“Ngh—h-hah!”
Ssslllrrpp! The goo wraps around your nipples, suckling and tugging with an uncanny, almost playful rhythm. The sensation is electric, a mix of discomfort and startling pleasure that sends a jolt through your spine. The wet sounds intensify as it kneads and tugs, the slick squelches mingling with your breathless grunts. Your chest tingles, the sensation spreading outward, and despite the absurdity of it all, your body begins to relax into the strange, invasive touch.
“Heh… hahahaha! W-what t-the fuck?!” you manage to wheeze out between a giggle, your voice cracking as the latex tightens its grip. The warmth is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the bizarre pleasure as your head starts to spin.
Even as the bliss begins to ripple through your body, your laughter doesn’t stop—muffled, wheezing, and filled with a heady, corrupted joy that you can't seem to fight off. The goo moves onward, but the sensation lingers, leaving your skin tingling as it molds and reshapes you, dragging you further into its clutches – a symphony of alien sounds as you’re assaulted and violated in all matters of dignity.
Then… the goop pooling at your shoulders, surges upward with unnatural speed. It presses against your neck, slipping under your chin. For a moment, you panic, thrashing against your restraints and the weighted rubbery mass atop your body, but then, the fear starts to give way to something… stranger.
Warmth spreads across your chest and stomach as the latex shifts and tightens. In the split moment, you can’t help notice it’s both suffocating, and… oddly comforting. It simultaneously shifts between feeling like you’re wrapped in an electric blanket or some kind of thick shrink-wrap. The sensation explodes through your body, numbing your panic and replacing it with an unsettling calm.
This feels… nice?
The thought slips into your mind unbidden, soft and traitorous. You flinch at its presence, shaking your head. No, no, this wasn’t right! You weren’t supposed to feel good about this—your memory flashes back to the street, the poor man attacked and transformed against his will. You have to fight it – you have to fight this!
It creeps higher, curling around your shoulders, slithering along your neck, and coiling possessively against your jaw. The cool, viscous touch sends shivers down your spine, the sensation equal parts unsettling and inescapable.
A loud sqrrrk! pulls your focus, breath hitching as a tendril rises from the writhing goo. It splits before your eyes, one snaking toward your left ear, the other angling toward your right. Panic claws at you, but your restraints combined with the mass of slime hold firm. You can’t move, can’t stop them - your body stiffens in anticipation as the first tendril hovers against your ear. It presses lightly at first, testing, before surging forward with a wet, slurping shllrp!
“N-Nngh… A-Ahh!”
You can't help cry out as the slick warmth invades your ear canal, the moist, squelching pressure filling your senses. Your body jerks in reflex, but it’s futile; anchoring itself deep with a final wet plorp! that makes your head reel.
The sensation is overwhelming, your world tilting sharply as a dizzying buzz fills your head. A gasp escapes your lips, your thrashing against the restraints growing frantic. Before you can recover, the second tendril moves. It pauses only briefly at the edge of your right ear, seeming to savor the moment, before plunging inward with a thick, moist slrrrch!
The sound of it is obscene, amplified by the wet gooey slurching that reverberates in your head. The tendrils wiggle and adjust, and you squirm against the restraints, gasping. The pressure builds, your vision blurring as warmth seeps into your mind. The heat pulses deeper, carrying something… unfamiliar.
And slowly... the fear gripping your chest begins to fray, unraveling in the haze. The rhythmic pulse and faint sqlrch and sqrrk of the slime in your ears, dulls your resistance, your mind clouding as some part of you... slips.
Boys.
The word flickers in your mind, unbidden and nonsensical.
…Silly boys.
The thoughts slip in like a stream of water, cool and relentless, drowning out everything else. Your panic fades into confusion, then into something lighter, almost pleasant. Your lips quiver, curving upward of their own accord.
Silly, squeaky… boy-shaped… boys!
“Hhh… heh… haha…!” The first giggle bubbles out — light and breathless, quickly followed by another. “W-What… hehe… is this?”
Boys… with… big tails… boys with big feet… wiggle, wiggle… silly boys…
“I’m… this is… haha! so… hahAHaha…! So weird…!”
Silly, ridiculous, and utterly uncontrollable. No matter how hard you try to stop, the laughter keeps spilling out, growing louder, more frantic. The tendrils pulse warmly in your ears, sending waves of nonsensical, playful thoughts that twist and wring buried fantasies to the forefront of your mind.
“Ahaha… hehehe… haHAHAhah!”
Progressing into full-blown laughter, through the haze, you stop caring about why. The fear, the resistance—all of it fades under the weight of your incessant howling. Your breathing hitches between giggles, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your mind fogs over completely. Thinking becomes difficult. Rationality crumbles, replaced by an irresistible wave of silly, nonsensical joy. The absurdity, the silliness—it’s all that’s left, and it feels… good.
You squirm, jaw hanging open - head lolling to one side as the tendrils surge and wiggle within your ears, the sensation as invasive as it was numbing. Eyes half-lidding as if the effort of keeping them open became too much. Each movement of the tendrils— Sqrrkk… sqeekkk… glrrbbll… – sliding in and out, in and out, in a sickeningly rhythmic motion – sends faint, disorienting pulses through your mind, like static on a broken signal.
Your neurons fire in rapid bursts, like sparks from a fraying wire, struggling to keep up with the unnatural stimuli. Each pulse seems to short-circuit another piece of coherent thought. Words, memories, anything resembling clarity slips further from your grasp.
“Ahaha… hehehe… hahaHAhah!”
The wiggling tendrils tug gently at the edges of your ears before sliding deeper again, filling your head with that relentless, squelching rhythm. Sllrrpp… glrrshhh… sqqeekkk… In and out, in and out, over and over, the motion lulling you into some kind of trance. Fragmented thoughts scatter like dust, Churning in a loop, endlessly repeating, growing louder and more absurd with every passing second.
Silly… goo… boys… shiny… squeaky boys… cute boys…
Your muscles go limp as your body submits, mind spiraling into the fog of nonsensical bliss. All you can feel is the warm, squirming tendrils and the chaotic haze they leave in their wake. Resistance becomes a faint whisper, lost beneath the symphony of squelches that echo endlessly in your ears.
sqrrrrrk
"N-Nnf.. a-ahhh...~"
Your breath catches as the tendrils slide deeper, their rhythm steady, relentless. Another sound bubbles up from your throat, softer this time, almost lost amidst the squelching that fills the room.
"Hehe… b-boys… cute boys… shiny gooey boys… l-like me…! Hehehahahaha…!"
Silly boy, silly boy, silly boy…
The words bounce around in your head, a giddy chant that seems to spill from your thoughts unbidden. Each shift, each pull of the latex against your skin, sends shivers of delight rippling through you. Your head lolls back, laughter bubbling up, cracked and hoarse, but still so… silly.
You thrash weakly against your bonds, not to escape, but to revel in the sheer absurdity of it all. "Hah… hehe… silly boy… that’s me… hehehe!" The words slip from your lips between gasps and hisses, your voice breaking as the rubber continues its lust-fueled assault with all barriers of resistance torn asunder. The goo presses against your neck, tickling your skin as it begins to climb higher. It feels like a lover’s touch—gentle, teasing, relentless.
It latches onto your arms – twisting and reshaping them in its gold embrace, muscles bulging, sleek and lithe. Black claws sprout from your fingertips, and you flex your lengthening digits, giggling as the latex forces your joints to crack and stretch.
“Hehe… Just a dumb, giggly boy… like me… mmhmph-haha!”
The heat intensifies, and you gasp, your laughter turning into a breathy moan. Then, a sharp crack echoes through the room. Your voice trembles, giggles morphing into wheezing laughter as the latex tightens around your thighs, emphasizing their shape.
A strange heat pulses through your hips as the goo clings tighter, molding and reshaping with an almost teasing deliberation. The pressure builds, and then, with a series of wet squelches, they begin to bubble beneath the glossy surface.
Squeeeak... shlunk... glrssshhh... glrrrchhh…!
Rubbery scaled flesh jiggles and swells, your once-straight frame softening and curving in ways you can’t fully process. The latex stretches and gleams as your hips round out, plumping effeminately with every pulse. A warped giggle escapes your lips—high, breathless, and above all else, delirious. Each shift, each swell, sends ripples of bizarre, fluttering sensations through you, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing again, louder and sillier than before.
"HAHAHAHA—CAN’T STOP—HAHAHAHA!"
Even as your body changes, a strange duality sets in. You’re still you—you’re still undeniably male—but the shape you’re taking is something in between. Sleek, slender, effeminate. The juxtaposition of strength and softness makes your head spin, and your giddy laughter bubbles over, more uncontrollable than before.
“Ohhh… this is… weird!” your voice cracks between silliness and nervous exhilaration. You can’t help but sway your hips slightly, feeling the weight and fullness of your transformed mid-section. The movement sends another jolt of pleasure up your spine, and your laughter tumbles into a string of airy hisses.
The latex seems to hum in response, and as if to emphasize the curve of your newly rounded hips, it tightens briefly around your waist.
Despite the absurdity of the situation, you find yourself grinning, blinking rapidly as the haze of confusion and surreal joy swirls in your mind. For a fleeting moment, you forget everything but the strange, thrilling transformation taking hold of you.
Every crack of bone, every pull of the latex feels like a surreal dream you can’t wake from. And through it all, the chant loops in your mind—a mantra, a reminder, an anchor in this chaos: Silly boy, silly boy, silly boy!
"Mmmf-haha—mmffhh! Hnnn—heheheh!”
Your giggles resume, even as a tendril of goo rises to force its way into your mouth, silencing you. You try to spit it out, but the taste is… intoxicating. Sweet, seductive. It numbs your resistance, replacing it with a growing haze.
"Mmff… hmmffheh… hmphahaaha!"
The muffled laughter spirals into wheezing chuckles that catch and stutter behind the latex pressing firmly against your lips – before breaking through, flowing past your tongue, down your throat. Across your chest, it squeezes, molding your body like clay, reshaping it with every passing moment. Glorp... glrrssh... sqllrrkk... sqeeeaakk! Your reflection flickers in the corner of your eye—a warped, shimmering shape in the dim-lit chamber – and your thoughts begin to spiral.
I’m changing. I’m… becoming something.
Something… better?
Something… silly…!
You grin through the latex, your muffled giggles turning into delighted hums. For a moment, you forget everything—your fear, your identity, even your humanity. The goo fills your mind with fleeting images of joy, pleasure, and purpose, whispering promises you can’t quite hear.
"Hhrrmmf… hmph-haha… hmhmff-hehehe!"
Glrrrsshhh—the goo covering your cock seems to come alive, writhing and bubbling. The slick substance squeaks and contorts against your balls, rubbery squeals echoing as your scrotum pulses and stretches - male virility so potent, so fertile it strains against your scaled, rubbery sack.
You can feel it - cum expanding outward in waves, bloating your dick with a series of low, wet gurgles and groans, beads of thick pre-seed bubbling at the yawning mouth of your squeaky boycock.
The latex erupts over your chest and shoulders, squeezing and sculpting your muscles – further twisting your svelte, effeminate frame, the shifting tendrils licking at your jaw climbing further up to your cheeks.
Wait… hehe… no, don’t stop…
…Before it surges your face in a relentless wave, smothering you in its suffocating embrace. Darkness consumes your vision, and every desperate gasp is met with nothing but slick, clinging latex forcing its way down your throat and into your nostrils. Your muffled cries dissolve into wet gurgles, then morph into shaky, hoarse giggles as the pressure mounts, wrapping your head in a vice-like grip.
“Mmmph! Hhhnngg—hehemmph! Hnnng—mmphhhahaha!”
Beneath the suffocating layer of latex, your skull begins to shift. Pain lances through your jaw as it cracks audibly, bones grinding and popping with every unnatural shift. The sensation is unbearable, yet a twisted, euphoric haze wraps around your mind. A strained, delirious laugh bubbles up, muffled and broken, as though your body and mind can’t decide whether to resist or revel in the transformation.
Sllrrrchhh... plop-plorp... squlllshhh... sllruurp!
All while the yellow ooze adheres tightly, molding every contour, every stretch, as your once-human features warp beneath the surface. Then, with a loud, sickening snap, your muzzle bursts forward, a serpentine snout stretching through the glossy latex. The rubber clings tightly, gleaming under the dim light, emphasizing every scaled curve and sharp angle of your new reptilian visage.
Your mouth snaps open with a hoarse, ragged half-gasp, half-giggle, the sound rasping out like a broken whisper. A warped, grin stretches across your serpentine face as a fleeting thought flickers through your haze; This must be a dream. It has to be. What else could this possibly be?
Your eyes blink beneath the taut surface of the goo, the rubber peeling back to reveal glowing green, slitted orbs. They dart around, catching your reflection in the nearby mirror. A snake-like head stares back at you, its wide maw twitching, forked tongue flickering in quick, jerky movements, tasting the humid, latex-laden air.
A giggle—higher and more manic—rises from your throat as your gaze lingers on your alien visage.
"Hhhhaaahhh… hhrrnnnghhh… haahhh! HAAhHAHAa…!”
This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
The laughter explodes again, desperate, wheezing, and laced with a strange, fearful excitement.
"HAHAAAHAAAA—hehehehhee—HAAAAHHAAA!"
Your chest heaves as the giggles taper into soft, hissing breaths. The euphoric haze begins to thin, replaced by a gnawing dread as clarity creeps in. You can’t wake up. No matter how much you will it, the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. The reality of your situation sinks in, suffocating and inescapable.
Before you can fully process the extent of your serpentine features, the latex surges downward, flowing past your ankles in a molten wave. It swallows your bare feet—the last untouched remnants of your humanity—in a thick, sticky embrace. The warmth is all-encompassing, like sinking into a heated bath, but with a possessive, intentional pressure. The latex clings to every contour, sealing your feet beneath its glossy surface, claiming them as its own.
The sensation is overwhelming, a suffocating tightness that melts into a deep, soothing pressure. It kneads and massages the soles of your feet, working its way between your toes. The warmth seeps into your skin, sinking deep into your muscles and bones as if coaxing them to change. You shiver involuntarily, the squelching and sloshing of the goo against your feet filling the air.
A subtle pressure builds in your soles at first, spreading to your toes. The latex tightens further, molding and reshaping with deliberate precision. With a sharp pop, the digits begin to elongate, stretching out in slow, mind-numbing motions. A deep, tingling warmth courses through them as they grow, the goo slithering between and gently squeezing each digit, amplifying every sensation.
Your breath catches as a sharp crack signals the next phase of their transformation. The bones in your toes shift and realign, spreading wide as the rubbery surface stretches to accommodate the new structure. Sharp claws erupt from the tips, gleaming black and glistening against the glossy yellow latex.
The sensation of your toes splaying out is almost too much to bear—ticklish and thrilling all at once. You can feel the latex squelching wetly as it flows and adjusts, accentuating every new contour and curve. Instinctively, you flex and wiggle the elongated digits, each movement sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your feet. The claws click softly against the latex as they curl, a primal instinct you never knew you had rising to the surface.
“Hehe… it t-tickles…” You let out a wheezy hiss, watching in fascination as your clawed toes splay and flex with another series of pops, goo squelching between them with every movement – eliciting another crack of laughter in your voice.
The transformation doesn’t stop. They stretch and grow larger, the soft crrrrk of bones rearranging and expanding beneath the latex sending shivers up your spine. The rubbery coating tightens, emphasizing their new, distinctly reptilian structure… distinctly… yours.
Your amusement falters as a sudden jolt of pressure shoots down your spine. You gasp, your back arching involuntarily, the sound of a sharp crack echoing in the room. The sensation deepens into an almost unbearable ache at the base of your spine, and then—pop!—a long, sinuous tail bursts forth.
“Ahhh—haaa! Hehehe!”
The tail thrashes wildly as it stretches longer and longer, its surface gleaming with glossy yellow latex scales marked with black stripes and diamond patterns. It coils and twists, impossibly flexible, a living extension of your new form. The sensation is overwhelming, the weight and movement of your tail foreign yet exhilarating. You laugh again, the sound breaking into a wheezy hiss, as the final pieces of your transformation finally settle into place.
I’m… amazing. I’m… perfect…
The golden slime surges into your mouth, warm and invasive, forcing its way down your throat as your body instinctively convulses. Momentary panic grips you as your airway is sealed, and every desperate attempt to scream or gag is met with silence. Yet, amidst the suffocating pressure and the searing burn in your chest, a strange, tingling warmth begins to bloom—a spark of something that sends shivers of twisted pleasure down your spine – and as if to calm the bout of vertigo and instinctual panic, the latex in your ears glorps and shllrpps, filling your mind with static, and your voice, with laughter.
"Mmhhff… hhhrnnkk… hhkkhh… hehh—hhsssskkk…"
Your chuckles dissolve into desperate gurgles, the latex invading your mouth and winding past your throat.
"Hhhffmmphhh! Heh-mmmph-hhahhh—hhrrkkk!”
Your hands tremble against the restraints, but the fight drains from your body as the rubber moves with deliberate intimacy, threading through your throat, coiling around your vocal cords. Each shift, each crack of cartilage, sends a wave of pain that is quickly drowned by an inexplicable, intoxicating euphoria.
“Hhffhhhehhhkkkhh… ssssnnnghhkkhhh… hsssffhhrrkk…!”
It’s wrong—every fiber of your mind screams that this is wrong—but the latex doesn’t care. It pulses and churns, its touch violating and seductive, silencing the fear and replacing it with a fleeting, maddening desire for more. Grrooop... sqrrkk... schlrrpp... skreeeek! You feel your voice being stolen, the delicate structures in your throat dissolving into something new, something alien. The sensation sends ripples of heat through your body, clouding your mind as your vision blurs.
And then, as abruptly as it began… the latex retreats, leaving you gasping for air. Your chest heaves, but no scream comes, no sound at all—only soft, raspy hisses.
"Nhhaaa… hhhuuhhh… hhsssnnnghhh…"
You feel your body arch involuntarily, your new forked tongue hanging out as a muffled, wheezing moan escapes your lips. The last remnants of your delirious laughter fade, as they twist and distort into a strained, wheezing sound, like air being forced through a broken flute.
"Hhhh—sss… hhrrr-sssssss…!"
The hiss rattles in your throat, dry and guttural, echoing softly in the room around you. It’s involuntary, yet oddly satisfying, rising and falling in uneven waves, replacing what once was giggling joy with something far more primal.
“Hhhhrssss… hhrrnnnghhh… hhhsssaaaahhh…”
Your forked tongue flicks out, tasting the air as the hiss stretches longer, blending with the soft rasp of your labored breaths. It vibrates, low and unsettling, a sound foreign yet familiar—one that feels natural to your new form, even as it chills you to the core.
And as the last few squeaking pops and snap of bones settle into place, the room is silent save your own heavy breathing.
With a final surge of strength, your body, now unrecognizably powerful and serpentine, tenses against the restraints that have held you captive throughout this grotesque metamorphosis. Muscles coil, latex-slicked and gleaming, as you pull against the bindings with newfound might and give a deep hiss.
CRACK! SNAP!
Your bonds give way in a shower of shredded straps and broken mechanisms, and you stumble forward, elongated tail dragging behind you as it uncoils with a series of wet, rubbery squeaks. Collapsing in a heap on the cold, slick floor, your new, scaled body trembles, drenched in rivulets of glistening, viscous latex. Residue clings to you, dripping from your snout, pooling beneath your clawed hands and feet with every motion, squelching as you shift.
Heaving, you curl inward, your long tail twitching sporadically as it wraps around your legs. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. Every breath feels labored, your forked tongue flicking lazily, tasting the heavy, rubbery air that clings to you like a second skin. Your glowing, slitted green eyes flutter half-closed, your mind clouded with drunken bliss.
Full and heavy balls swinging just above your twin, throbbing cocks; you can almost smell the potent, boy-scent from them where you're standing as it makes your knees weak.
…And then it begins—the soft, hoarse giggles bubbling up from deep within your chest, as if echoing the lingering haze of delirium.
“Hhhsss… heh-hehhh… hhrrrkkk… hhsss…”