You focus on the pool. Its hypnotic surface shimmers, an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of colors blending and separating in slow, deliberate waves. Leaning over its edge, you peer into the strange liquid latex. It pulses faintly, and you can’t help but shiver at the thought of what it might do to someone who stepped into it.
Yet, you recall your own transformation—brought about by a single color. What would this multicolored concoction create? A hybrid? Something entirely new?
The note you found earlier echoes in your mind. The way out lies in the depths. Pool room, southeast corner. Dive deep. Don’t linger. You draw your eyes toward the southeast corner of the pool, and blink. If this really was the way forward, then there was no point hesitating.
Your gaze shifts to your tail, and an idea strikes you. Testing the pool might be safer—if only slightly—than diving in headfirst. Though your control over your tail is still… clumsy at best, and you awkwardly pull it toward you, the task as tedious as it is frustrating. Finally, bracing yourself, you close your eyes and dip the tip of your tail into the prismatic latex.
To your surprise, your appendage sinks effortlessly, as though the pool were filled with water instead of viscous goo. You wait, tense, expecting some kind of reaction—a change in texture, a new sensation—but nothing happens. No transformations, no tingling. Just the faint resistance of the liquid squeaking against your tail.
Reassured, you crawl to the edge and slide into the pool—the latex engulfing you, whilst a wave of strange, pleasurable sensations wash over you. It shifts with a series of moist slllrrchs and loud sqrrrrks, massaging every inch of your body as it embraces you. You hiss softly, both in annoyance and faint amusement, as the latex seems particularly intent on teasing the soles of your feet, drawing out a giggle you try to suppress--and you swear you feel a suction around your bobbing maleness. Not what you expected for your first time skinny-dipping...
Shaking your head, you refocus. Where was it? You scan the depths as you remember the note’s instructions: southeast corner. Gathering your resolve, you move forward, the latex flowing around you like liquid silk. Each step deeper into the pool brings you closer to what you hope is the hidden entrance—and farther from the safety of solid ground.
The colors swirl around you, growing darker and more intense as you near the corner. You reach out with your claws, searching for something—anything—that might hint at the entrance, so low the waves lap at the bottom of your jaw.
The squeaking of liquid latex presses against your senses, but you keep going.