In tandem, you and the boy sprint down the twisting, endless corridors of the Solarus Research Institute, the sterile walls blurring past in a whirlwind of panic. Each step is a gamble, and the oppressive hum of the building’s machinery does nothing to mask the pounding of your heart.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” he cries, his voice cracking with panic and terror. His left arm twitches uncontrollably, the black rubber spreading farther over his body, creeping like a living parasite—dissolving his clothing where it touches, exposing slick, glossy scales beneath.
Your head snaps toward him, eyes wide in alarm—but the boy's screams are only part of the rising chaos. Behind you, echoing through the halls, comes the unmistakable squeak and squelch of latex bodies—others of Orion’s twisted creations, closing in fast.
Think, damn it! Your mind races, primal instincts and desperate logic battling for control. You yank him forward, urging him to run faster even as his breaths come in ragged gasps.
Finally, you spot an open door and make a split-second decision. Grabbing the boy’s wrist, you veer sharply into the room, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with a loud click.
Shoving the teen back against the wall, your tail lashes nervously as you press a finger to your mouth, signaling him to stay quiet. He nods, trembling, tears streaking his face as he clamps a hand over his own mouth, muffling his panicked sobs.
Outside, the squeaking footsteps grow louder, reverberating like a relentless drumbeat in your ears. They pause briefly, hovering just outside the door. Every muscle in your body coils tight, your breath caught in your throat.
Then, mercifully, the sound begins to fade, the latex monstrosities continuing down the hall. You wait several agonizing moments, your chest heaving as you release a low, rattling hiss—a poor excuse for a sigh of relief.
The boy’s ragged breathing soon fills the small room, echoing in the silence. As you glance down, your serpentine eyes widen in helpless horror; the black rubber has consumed every last shred of his clothing, leaving his trembling body completely exposed. The glossy, sinuous latex gleams under the dim light, its encroaching surface devouring his humanity inch by inch.
“Oh god, make it stop!”
His panicked breaths come in short, shallow bursts as he stumbles backward, trembling hands clawing at the black rubber overtaking his body. His fingers grasp at the slick, glistening surface, and for a fleeting moment, the latex stretches like elastic, pulling away from his skin in taut, sinewy strands. A sickening smack follows as it snaps back into place, clinging tighter, almost mockingly.
“Get off me! Get it off me!” he cries, his voice cracking as his hands dart to his arms, his chest, anywhere he can find purchase. The wet, obscene sounds of the latex resisting his efforts fill the room—slap, squelch, smack—each attempt seeming to invigorate the insidious substance.
As his grip tightens, small tendrils slither free from the rubber, writhing with unnatural life. They curl and twist—and the boy freezes, his eyes widening in terror as one tendril trails along his thigh, its touch invasive and wrong, sending a jolt through his cock.
“I can’t—nnff~!”
You hesitate, dread pooling in your chest, but there was no time to think. Acting in desperation, you brace yourself and step forward, feeling the slick film of your own rubberized body coalescing at your palms and feet. The thought of what you were about to do sends a shudder down your spine, but there was no other way. You lift a foot, and plant it firmly against the boy’s chest.
“Nnnf?! What are you—?!” he shouts, flinching at the strange, slippery sensation of your cool scales against him. His eyes widen further in confusion and horror as you point a claw to your twitching members. “W-What?! How is that supposed to–?!”
A hiss escapes your lips, your jaw parting involuntarily as your latex-coated form seems to pulse with heat.
You couldn’t stop yourself. The haze overtook you as you lunged forward, jaws wide, and latched your hands behind his head—and plunged—ramming your twin dicks right down his throat, bucking your hips, primal instincts surging to the forefront; the need to make him yours
“MMMHMMMFH!” the teen’s muffled screams were frantic, his body jerking beneath you as he tried to wrench free. His terror only intensified as he felt a torrent of your essence invading his throat, his words reduced to choking gasps.
Gritting your fangs, you pried his mouth open with a clawed hand and forced a thick dredge of cum further down his mouth. The boy convulsed, his hands scrambling to push you away, his cries devolving into incoherent gurgles.
Yet amidst this, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway—heavy, deliberate, getting closer.
Your instincts kick in, and you quickly coil your serpentine tail around the boy.
The muscular, rubberized appendage constricted tightly around the boy’s frame as he writhed in panic, muffled screams vibrating through the rubbery embrace. The wet, squeaking noises of latex-on-latex filled the air, a cacophony of tension as his body fought against the suffocating grip of both your tail and the invasive black rubber encasing him. His hands clawed at your coils, his strength paltry compared to yours, ceasing his struggle for a few, precious moments.
The footsteps paused just outside the room, the tension so thick it was suffocating. You barely dared to breathe.
After a moment that stretched into an eternity, the sounds receded, fading into the distance.
…But then, beneath your tightening grip, you felt it—a shift.
The teen’s frame begins to expand. His scrawny arms bulge unnaturally, muscles surging beneath the glossy latex as it burbles and inflates with raw power. His chest swells against your coils, the faint creak and slurch of his broadening pecs making your tail strain to maintain its hold. His legs, once thin and frail, stretch and thicken, rubber-coated sinew pulsing with growth beneath your gaze.
“MMMFHH—! MmmMMNNHH—NNNNGGHHH…!” His muffled cries twist into deep, guttural groans, his voice warping into something feral.
The glossy surface of his skin ripples as his body is overtaken by the transformation. His shoulders broaden with a harsh squeak against your coils, the taut rubber clinging to his expanding frame like a second skin. New muscles twitch and flex involuntarily, each movement sending faint tremors through your body as his raw strength begins to emerge. His arms strain against your hold, and then his chest gives a final, shuddering burst, forcing your coils apart with a wet pop.
You release him, staggering back with wide, serpentine eyes. The boy collapses onto his hands and knees in a puddle of milky white latex. His body heaves, his new tail twitching erratically behind him as he gasps for air.
Slowly, he rises, the latex clinging to his transformed frame smacking wetly as it peels away from the puddle beneath him. His broad, glossy chest heaves with each breath, and the sudden motion causes his massive, prominent pecs to jiggle slightly, the movement drawing attention to his large, pink nipples that stand out starkly against the smooth, rubbery sheen of his 'fur.'
His biceps, swollen with newfound power, twitch faintly as if adjusting to their size. Even his legs, now massive tree trunks of gleaming latex muscle, flex involuntarily as the last vestiges of his transformation ripple through him... and the heavyset sheath dangling between his legs, nearly two feet long in length alone, churns faint with the flow of virility, twitching with an obscene sqrk
The teen—no, the white tiger—stares at his new, large, paw-like hands, turning them over as sharp ebony claws extend and retract. The sleek, white surface of his body gleams with an otherworldly shine, accented by the striking black stripes running down his arms, back, and long, swishing tail.
His new, oversized hands splay experimentally, the thick, pink paw-pads on his palms glistening faintly under the light. The same soft, pink texture marks the underside of his newly pawed feet, stark against the sleek white latex coating his body. His toes curl as he shifts his weight, the wet floor beneath him squelching faintly with each movement.
He flexes his massive arms experimentally, his glossy pecs bouncing slightly with the motion, as if testing the limits of his newfound strength. His expression, once locked in panic, softens into something else—shock, yes, but also a faint glimmer of admiration. Tentatively, he raises a hand to his chest, his sharp claws brushing over the gleaming latex-like surface with an audible squeak.
“Wh-What...?” he murmurs, his voice deeper and resonant, carrying an almost reverent tone as he straightens up fully, now towering over you. His glowing blue eyes drift down to his powerful legs, thick and corded with muscle, then to the fat feline sheath nestled between them. It lingers before darting back to his enormous arms, which he flexes again with a low, rumbling groan.
Curious, he raises one arm higher, claws curling as he inspects himself. His bicep flexes powerfully, the motion causing the light to ripple across its glossy surface-latex fur stretching taut with another faint pulse of residual growth. As his arm lifts, his eyes catch a glimpse of the patch of black, latex fur under his armpit, slick and faintly shimmering. He tilts his head slightly, his lips parting in quiet fascination as he shifts the angle of his arm, watching the way the fur seems to catch and refract the dim light. The subtle sheen accentuates the curvature of his muscle, drawing his attention to every flex and ripple of strength.
“This... this is m-me?” he rasps, his hands sliding over his muscular frame, leaving faint streaks of white residue in their wake. He stumbles slightly, the sheer weight of his new body throwing him off balance, but he catches himself against the wall, claws digging faintly into the surface. His glowing eyes dart back to you, filled with questions he can’t yet articulate, his breathing heavy and uneven as he tries to steady himself.
Finally, he sinks onto his rear in the puddle beneath him, massive frame heaving with deep, measured breaths. His black, slicked-back "hair" glints faintly, and his gaze drops to his reflection in the shimmering pool below as lifts a hand to his face, tracing the sharp lines of his muzzle and the sheen of his latex-coated fur.
“I don’t... I don’t know what you did to me,” he says between gasps, his voice low but steadying, the awe still evident in his tone. He looks down at his glistening paws, turning them over slowly, pink paw pads standing out against the gleaming black of his palms. “But... this is... unreal.”
You exhale a long, shaky hiss—a sound of relief. The adrenaline that had driven you this far begins to fade, and your serpentine body slackens slightly. For a moment, you simply watch him, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. Despite his disorientation, he seems... steady, and you fold your arms, waiting for his reaction, unsure of what the next moments will bring.
The tiger leans forward slightly, his deep, rumbling voice cutting through the silence. “O-Okay, two things…”
His massive, clawed hands gesture nervously as he straightens up, rising to his full, towering height. You instinctively follow the motion, your coils shifting as you watch him intently. “First—never speak of this to anyone. Got it?”
You raise a brow, your serpentine features betraying your amusement, and nod slowly. His broad shoulders sag in relief, but his striped ears flick back slightly, as if catching an errant thought. He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck, his tail swishing behind him with restless energy. “…Second… well…” His eyes flick toward the ground before meeting yours. “…Thanks, I guess..."
A soft hiss escapes your lips—not frustration this time, but something closer to a laugh. You extend your arm toward him, your clawed hand open in a gesture of camaraderie. He hesitates, staring at your claws, his eyes darting between it and your face.
Finally, he sighs and clasps your hand firmly.
His grip is warm, surprisingly gentle despite his immense size, his claws careful not to press too hard against your scaled palm. He gives it a firm shake before pausing, his sharp eyes narrowing as they scan your face.
“I... feel like I know you,” he says suddenly, his voice tinged with suspicion. His head tilts as he studies you with renewed focus. “Hold on… did you… no, you can’t be that guy from earlier, right?”
Excited, you nod quickly, your tail curling and bouncing slightly against the floor in response.
“Holy shit, for real?!” he exclaims, stepping back in disbelief. He runs a clawed hand through his slick, latex-black hair, his ears flicking upward in surprise. “Well… sorry for getting caught… twice.” He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
But then, his gaze sharpens again, more focused now, and his ears angle forward. “You uh… seem quieter than last time,” he observes, his brows furrowing slightly as he studies you.
You open your mouth, letting out a soft hiss as your tongue flicks out in mild frustration. Then you shake your head and shrug, the motion fluid and deliberate, hoping it conveys enough.
“…O-Oh.” he replies, his voice softening with understanding. His ears flick back again, and his gaze shifts, as though summoning the courage to ask something. “…Um... you can't really speak, but—can I… uh, ask you something?”
You tilt your head, uncertain but willing, and nod.
He exhales sharply, flustered, his clawed toes flexing slightly against the floor. “Are we… uh, are we bi now? I mean, I was straight before, but...” His voice trails off as his eyes wander over you, his cheeks darkening under the dim light.
Your gaze sharpens as you notice how his eyes linger—on your broad chest, your sleek, muscled form, your wide hips, the maleness between your legs and the subtle, sinuous movement of your tail as it coils behind you.
His blue eyes widen slightly, as though he’s truly seeing you for the first time.
“Wow,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his clawed hand sliding down his own chest. His fingers trace over the glossy black stripes of his latex-coated frame, marveling at the solid muscle beneath, before glancing back at you with a sheepish grin. “I mean, look at us—we’re… jacked. A-And you’re… uh, incredible.”
You blink, surprised by the unexpected admiration in his tone. Your tail flicks behind you in amusement as you tilt your head in acknowledgment.
The tiger quickly looks away, embarrassed, and clears his throat awkwardly. “A-Anyways,” he says hastily, his ears flicking back again. “I guess… thanks, again—for saving me. And, uh… for this.” He gestures at himself, his hulking frame shifting slightly as he adjusts to the weight and power of his new feline body.
Though you remain silent, the playful flick of your tail and the faint tilt of your head convey your thoughts clearly: You’re welcome.
Noticing the room further in is cloaked in shadow, you shift your attention from the tiger and glide forward, your sleek form moving silently over the floor. He remains behind for a moment, then follows, his claws clicking faintly against the surface with each deliberate step.
Reaching the far wall, you brush your claw against a nearby switch. With a sharp click, the room is suddenly flooded with harsh light. Both of you freeze, your bodies tensing instinctively as the scene before you unfolds.
Your reptilian eyes dart around the space, scanning its details with precise, calculating movements. The white tiger lingers behind you, his broad frame rigid, tail flicking nervously as he tries to process what he’s seeing.
“What… what is this place?” he murmurs, his voice low, as though the room itself might respond.